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Price 6s, in Twelve Monthly Parts, and 7*. 6d, bound in Cloth. 

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217932 . K £9 

C&oinmw-The Right Hon. LORD BROUGHAM. F.R.S.. Member of the National Institute of Fraao*. 
FfM-Cftairmm-JOHN WOOD, Esq. 
Treasurer- WILLIAM TOOKE. Esq., F.R.S, 

W. Allen, Esq., P.R. and R.A.S. 

Captain Beaufort, R.N., F.K. and R.A.8., 

Hydrographer to the Admiralty. 
Francis Boott, M.D. 
O. Burrows, M.D. 
Peter Stafford Carey, Esq., A.M. 
William Coupon, Esq. 
R. 1). Craig, Esq. 
J. P. Darls, Esq., F.R.S. 
H. T. Dela Reche. Esq., F.R.S. 
The RlgHt Hon. Lord Deninnn. 
Samuel Duckworth, Esq., M.P. 
B. P. Duppa. Esq. 

The Right iter, the Bishop of Durham, D.D. 
Sir Henry Ellis, Prln. Lib. Brit. Mum. 
T. P. Ellis. Esq.. A.M., F.R.A.H. 
John Elllotson, M.D.. K.R.8. 
George Evans, Esq.. M.P. 
Thomas Falconer, Esq. 

I. L. Goldsmld, Esq., P.R. and R.A.8. 

Francis Henry Goldsmld, Esq. 

B. Gonipertt, Esq., P.R. and R.A.S. 

G. B. Greenough, Esq., F.R. and L.S. 

M. D. Hill, Esq. 

Rowland Hill, Esq., F.R.A.S. 

Right Hon. Sir J. C. Hobhouse, Bart., M.P. 

David Jardine, Esq., A.M. 

Henry B. Ker, Esq. 

Thomas Hewitt Key, Esq., A.M. 

George C. Lewis, Esq., A.M, # 

Thomas Henry Lister, Esq. 

James Loch, Esq., M.P., P.G.S. 

George Long, Esq., A.M. 

H. Maiden, Esq. A.M. 

A. T. Malkin, Esq.. A.M. 

James Manning, K*q. 

R. I. Murchison, Esq., F.R.S, F.G.S. 

The Right Hon. Lord Nugent. 

Wm. Smith O'Brien. Esq., M.P. 

The Right Hon. Sir Henry ParneU, fit, M.P. 

Richard Quain, Esq. 

Dr. Roget, Sec. R.S., F.R.A.S. 

Edward Romilly, Etq., A.M. 

The Right Hon. Lord John Russell, M.P. 

Sir M. A. Shee, P.R. A., F.R.S. 

John Abel Smith, E*q., M.P. 

The Right Hon. Earl Spencer. 

John Taylor. Esq. F.R.S. 

Dr. A.T.Thomson, F.L.S. 

Thomas Vardon, Esq. 

H. Waymouth, Esq. 

J. Whishaw, Esq., A.M., P.R.S. 

The Hon. John Wrotteidey, A.M., F.R. A, 8. 

Thomas Wyse, Esq., M.P. 

J. A. Yates, Esq., M.P. , 

AUon % Stnjordthtre—Tltv. J. P. Jones. 
W^/MM-HeT. K. Williams. 

Rer. W. Johnson. 

Mr. Miller. 
Ashburton—J. P. Kingston, Esq. 
Barnstaple. Bancraft, Esq. 

Willinm Grlbble, Esq. 
Belfast— Dr. Drummoud. 
Birmingham— J. Corrie, Esq. F.R.S. Chairman. 

Paul Moon James, Esq., Treasurer. 

Dr. Conolly. 
BHdpurt— James Williams, Esq. 
Bristol— J.N. Sanders, Esq., F.G.S. Chairman. 

J. Reynolds, Esq., Treasurer. 

J. B. Estlin, Esq., F.L.8., Secretary. 
Calcutta— James Young, Esq. 

C. H. Cameron. Esq. 
Cambridge — Rer. James Bows lead, M.A. 

Rer. Prof. Henslow, M. A., F.L.S. It O.S.} 

Rer. Leonard Jenyns, M.A., F.L.8. 

Rev. John Lodge, M.A. 

Rer. Geo Peacock, M.A.. P.R.S. & O.S. 

Robert W. Jlothraaa,E5q.,M.A.,P.ttJLS, 
fc (i.S. 

Rer. Prof. Sedgwick. M.A., F.R.8.& G.8. 

Rer. C. Thirl wall, M.A. 
Canterlmrt/— John Brent, E*q., Alderman. 

William Masters. Esq. 
Cantpn— Wm. Jardine, Esq., President, 

Robert Inglls, Esq., Treasurer. 

Rer. C. Brtdgman. 1 

Rer. C. GuUlaff, \ Secretaries. 

J. R. Morrison, Esq., J 
Cardigan— Rev. J. Blackwell, M.A. 
Carlisle— Thomas Barnes, M.D., F.R.S.E. 
Carnarnon — R. A. Poole, Esq. 

William Roberts, Esq. 
Chester— Hayes Lyon, Esq. 

Henry Potts, Esq. 
Chichester— John Forbe«, M.D., F.R.S. 

C. C. Dendy, Esq. 
Cocks* *Gui\--tLer. J. Whltridge. 
Corfu— John Crawford, Esq. 

Mr. Plato Petrides 
Cormrry— Arthur Gregory, Esq. 
Denbigh — Jobo Madocks, Esq., 

Thomas Evans, Esq. 


Derby— Joseph Stmtt, Esq. 

Edward Strutt, Esq., M.P. 
Devonport and Stonehouse— John Cole, Esq. 

— Norman, Esq. 

Lt.Col. C. Hamilton Smith, P.R.S. 
Dublin— T. Drummond. Esq. R.E., F.R.A.S. 
Edinburgh— Sir C. Bell, F.R.S.L. and E. 
Etruria— Jon. Wedgwood, Esq. 
Exeter— J. Tyrrell, Esq. 

John Mil ford, Esq. {Conner.) 
QlamorgansJtire— Dr. Malkin, Cowbrldge. 

W. Williams, Esq., Aberpergwm. 
Glasgow— K. Flniay, Esq. 

Professor Mylne. 

Alexander McG rigor, Esq. 
' Charles Tennant, Esq. 

James Cowper, Esq. 
Guernsey—?. C. Lukis, Esq. 
Hull— J. C. Parker, Esq. 
Leamington Spa — Dr. London, M.D. 
Leeds— J. Marshall, Esq. 
Lewes— J. W. WoolJgar, Esq. 
Liverpool Loc. As.— W. W. Currie, Esq. Ch. 

J. Mulleneux, Esq., Treasurer, 

Rer. Dr. Shepherd 4 . 
Ludlow— T. A. Knight, Esq., PH. 8. 
Maidenhead— R. Goolden, Esq., F.L.S. 
Maidstone— Clement T. Smyth, Esq. 

John Case, Esq. . 

Malmeebury—H. C.Thomas. Esq. 
Manchester Loc. As.—Q.W. Wood, Esq., CA. 

Benjamin Heywood. Esq., Treasurer. 

T. W. Wlnstanley, Esq., Hon, See. 

8ir G. Philips, Bart, M.P. 

Benj. Gott, Esq. 
Masham— Rev. George Waddington, M.A. 
Mertht/r Tydvil—J. J. Guest, Esq., M.P. 
Minrhinhamv ton— John G. Ball, Esq. 
Monmouth—). H. Moggrldge, Esq. 
Neath — John Rowland, Esq. 
Newcastle— Rer. W. Turner. 

T. Sopwith, E«q., F.G.S. 
Newport, Ism of Wight— Ab. Clarke, Esq. 

T. Cooke, Jun., Esq. 

R. G. Klrkpatrick, Esq. 
Newport PagneU—J. Millar, Esq. 

Newtown* Montgomeryshire— 19 . Pugh, Esq. 
Norwich— Richard Bacon, Esq. 

Wm. Forster, Esq. 
Orsett, Essex— Dr. Corbett, M.D. 
Oxford— Dr. Daubeny, F.R.S. Prof. ofChem. 

Rer. Prof. PoweM. 

Rev. John Jordan, R.A. 

E. W. Head, Esq., M.A. 
Pestlt, Hungary— Count Szcchenyl. 
Plymouth— H. Woollcombe, Esq., P.A.8., Ch. 

Snow Harris, Esq., F.R.S. 

E. Moore, M.I) , F.L.S., Secretary. 

G. Wlghtwick, Esq. 
Presteign— Dr. A. W. Daris, M.D. 
flipcn—\Uf. B, P. Uaroiltou, M.A,, F.!?.«. 
and G.S. 

Rev. P. Ewart, M.A. 
Ruthin— Rer. the Warden of 

Humphreys Jones, Exq. 
Hyde. I. of fright— $\r Rd. Simeon, Bt. 
Salisbury— Rev. J. Barfitt 
Sheffield— J. H. Abrahams, Esq. 
Shepton Mallet— G. F. Burroughs, Esq. 
Shrewsbury— R. A. Slaney, Esq., M.P. 
South Pet her ton— John Nlcholetls, Esq. 
St. Asaph— Rev. George Strong. 
Stockjwrt—rl . Marsland, Esq., Treasurer. 

Henry Con pock. Esq., Secretary. 
Sydney. New South Wales— 

William M. Manning. Esq. 
Tavistock— Rer. W. Erans. 

John Rundle, Esq. 
Truro— Richard Taunton, M.D., P.R.S. 

Henry Sewell Stokes, Esq. 
Tunbridge Welle— Dr. Yeats. M.D. 
Utloxeter— Robert Blurton, Esq. 
Waterford—SW John Newport, Bt. 
Worcester— Dr. Hastings, M.D. 

C. H. Hebb, Esq. 
Wrexham— Thomnn Edgworth, Esq. 

J. E. Bowman, Esq., F.L.8., Treasurer 

Major William Lloyd. 
Yarmouth— C. E. Rum bold, Esq. 

Dawson Turner, Esq. 
York— Rev. J. Kenrlck, M.A. 

J. Phillips, Esq., P.R.S., F.O.8. j 

THOMAi* CGAT*8 f 'jEtf, Sytretaryl *o. W, Unenlal*- In* Field* " 

'"O iovi &KXK.r, p ^ (^ - ^, 

Ltndon j Printed by Wj&uajb Ciova* nssi 8okb» Hit mfmrit 

Digitized by 



Aborioxitxs In the British Colonies— 

Suvrh Africa. 73. 84 
Advertising, primitive mode of, 139 

Agjicultur*, Freuch,— employment of Comparative Anatomy, 47*2, Of 

Coffee booses, Tnrlcish. 229 
Commerce, influence of, iu re] 
ware, 472 

•omen, 105 
Alabaster Ornaments, the manufacture 

or. 443 
Ale and Boer Drinking in England in 

the l<lh century. 230 
Allegorical Paiuting and Sculpture, 305 
Alphabets for the Blind. Hi 
America, discovery of. 197 
American Desert, the, 280 
American Travellers and Travelling, 23 
Anecdote* of a Blind Person, Jl 
Animal Instinct, remarkable instance 

of the absence of. 283 
Antwerp, commerce of, 345 
Arab Faith in Medicine. 211 
Arabian King and the Poet, 244 
Arctic Winter, 132 
Armenian Society of Lasarus, 117 
Art of Educating, 11 
Artificial Gems, 450 
Astrolabe, Sir Francis Drake's, 211 
Athens, the school of, 389 
Aye-Aye, the, 425 

Back's, Captain, expedition to the 
Polar Seas. 310, 318 

Badger, the, 845 

Baka, perpetual Are of, 44 

Ball bf Id Jn a Coalmine, 299 

Ballads: Old E ngluh- Robin Mood, 
169.238, 241, 27$ 301, 313. 39T 848, 
333; English Romantic :— Sir Caulioe 
-The Boy and the Mantle, 404; 
The Cbild« ai Kile— Olasgerion, 428 ; 
Tbe Heir of Linue,465; The Children 
in the Wood, 474; Utile Musgrav* 
The Friar of Orders Gray, 489 

Bark-bread in Norway, 156 

Barry's Pictures : Orpheus, 6J! : Grecian 
Harvest-home, 92; 'The Victors at 
Olvmpta. 104, 113; Elysinm, or the 
State of Final Retribution. 148, 153 

Whrre*. cottnge improvements in. 171 

Bse-huating and Bee-keeping in Ame- 
rica, 14« 

B?*», management of, on Mount Hy- 
nettus, in Greece, 400 

Belziam. th small farms of, 354 

Benefactors or Mankind— Vincent de 
Paol, 4 

Bsnamgham and Manchester, statist les 

Bar, the wild, of South Africa, 140 
Btftsie Gardens, 301 

Tit, the, and Nest. 481 
dojrae, museum at, 452, 468 
, silk-works of, 14 
Colonies, North American, 
Jufe of. 40 

N**h Museum, new Egyptian room 
a, 43$ 

«V-», the city of, 265. 27« 

toiag Materials— Norwegian Hahi- 

Conducting Power, difference of, 427 
Constantinople, the streets of, 401 
Cookery iu Per»ia, 4J2 
Coronation of James L. 136 
Corunulions, English, 251 
Cosmetics, on. 467 
Curling, the game of. 473 

DiinncifTTKO in North America, 407 
Demosthenes, 445, 433 
Dial-plates, on the euamelllng of, 434 
Diamond-works of Sumbhulpore, 44'/ 
Dinner in tbe 15th century, 196 
Discovery, training the rdlud to skill In, 

Dreams, superstitions belief of the Mus- 
lims In, 322 
Duck-shooting on the Niagara river, 

Eaxwio, the, 316 

" Ecce Homo," the, by Correeio. 177 

Educated Artisan, the experience of an, 

Education, obstacles to, 360; De Witt 

Clinton on. 364 
Elephant, the, sagacity of, 316 
Erasmus in England, 59, 82, 98, 110, 

Exercising the Faculties, necessity of, 


'rang Mirrors anl Lenses, 327 Habkms, Eastern, 484 

bar, making of, 440 11 arm air, the, 49 

Herculancum. Indian, an, 102 

Ireland, exportation* from, 56 ' Prairie, a, 56 *** 

Isle of Portland, a week in the. in 1837.1 Printer's Apprentice, the, 306 

Factory Children, education of. 479 

Farm Produce in America, depredators 
on. 195 

Feet, coverings Air the, 172, 180, 188 

Fever, sources of, 304 

Filberts, 444 

Fish, consumption of, in England, for- 
merly, and at the present time, 175, 
183, 191 

Flemish Farm, daily distribution of 
labour on a, 187 

Food, condiments In, 112 

Forethought and Independence, 240 

Possvollum. cataract at, in Iceland, 449 

Fotherlngay. 393 

Fruits intended for Man, 156 

Far -trade of Canada, 50 

Pars, supply of, 107 

Furse, the, or Whin, 488 

4Gzmmt, pass of the, and the Baths of 

Lcuk. 217 
Geographical Science, 392 
Goat, the, utility of. to man. 355 
Going to Bed in India, 11 
Gold, in manufactures, examples of the 

divisibility of, 409 
Greenland, eotoutxatkm of, 385 
Greenwich Hospital, naval gallery or 

painted hall in, 1 
Gypsies, English, 17; Continental, 114 

j"ft< Bain-makers, 104 
•nda, and other British Colonies in 
-&wts America. 25, 33 
^ttoue-tree. the. 337 
"" am c r ossing the desert, 197 
"fees, the salt-mines of, 3/3 
«fe. British wild, 441 
^■aca, the aeon of the, on the Con- 

try, detaeetic, 6 ; water, 21 ; do- 
icwaters,54; nre,6i; boding. 9» 
"•.education in, 286; iu vent ion and 
ewut state of printing in, 350; vac- 
-"win, 248 
Dinner, a, 64 
English, 189 
ordinance* of, 300 
the new Christian kingdom of, 
Abyssinia, 867 

"*~aa* Games in the Olden Time,499 


8 ever, castle and village of. in Kent, 994 
Ippopotamus and Crocodile, whether 

tbe, are the Behemoth and Leviathan 

of Scripture, 209 
Holland, education of tbe people in, 

and its effects, 216 
Homer, 133, 141 
Honey-taker, 408 
Horse, the, in the Malayan Archipelago, 

Howard, John. 912 
Hungarians, national manners of the, 

Hurley House, or Lady Place, Berks, 60 

Icelaxd, caverns and banditti m, 409 
India, importance of good roads in, 268 
Inland Navigation, 468 
Insanity, 187 

Insects, maasulai power of^ 475 ; move- 
ments of. 34 1 
Iodine, the diaoovery and uses of, 479 

67, 68, S6; Sunday in the, 91 

JaPAW. the empire of. 377, 336 

Jenner. Dr., 269 

Jerusalem, taking of. 469 

Jew's Harp, the, and M.Eulensteiu,363 

Judging Justly, on, 135 

KiNorrsriFR, the, or Nest of the Hal- 
cyon, 436 

Knowledge, character of modern, with 
hints for iu improvement, 15; ner- 
manvneo of, 67 ; advantages of, 156 

Labordi, Le Comte Alexandre-Louis- 
Joseph de, memoir of, 497 

Laplander*, condition of Hie, 119 

I .aw of Settlement, the old, influence of, 

Leeds, village and castle of, in Kent, 995 

Legal Proceedings, advantages of pub- 
licity in, 464 

Liquorice, on the cultivation of, 179 

Loudon, industry of. 11; fires in, 387 i 
public imj roveraents in, 457 

London and Birmingham Railway, 329, 

Lunar Climate, 483 

Lungs, the, 1&7 

Luxor Obelisk, tlie, in the Place Louis 
XVI., Paris. 81 

Maoxitic Pole, the, 56 

Manufactures, the locality of, Influence 
of circumstances on, 101 ; physical 
circumstances contributing to the pro- 
gress of. 343 

Marriages, the nnmber of. e fleets of 
seasons of scarcity on, 979 

Medical Skill, 344 

Millstones, the manufacture of, in Ger- 
many, 414 

Morals and Manners, influence of com- 
merce upon, 308; connexion between 
the natural features of a country and 
its, 816 

Morpeth Cattle-market, 278 

Mother of- Pearl, on, 351 

Mourning women In the East, 4?6 

Mulberry Leaves, substitute for, in the 
leaves of the Rarooqu-tree, 215 

Music for the Blind. 219 

Musical Snuff-boxes, on, 998 

Muslim Saints, 316 

NATtowat. G a llxxv, pictures In : "Keee 
Homo," by Correggio. 177 *• " Raiding 
of Lasarus,** 185 { West's. 236 

Naval Gallery (Fainted Hall) in Green- 
wich Hospital, 1 

Naval History, British. 116. 135; the 
Spanish Armads, 157, 340 

Neilgherry Hills, §71 

Nelson's Monument, Yarmouth, 98 

Newcastle, improvements in, 839 

New Zealand, 325. 417 

North Cape, the tenant of the. 190 

North-west Passage, discovery of the, 

Norway, polite manners of the lower 
classes in, 91 ; irrigating land in, 219 

OurRLiN. Jean Frederic, 220 
Orang-Outan, the, 41 
Osaka Add. and Salts of Lemon, 483 
Oxen of South Africa, 145 

Pa cine, mountainous islands in (he, 156 
Palestine, the sea coast of; 281 
Pambonk-Raleai, petrified cascade of, 

Pari*, Sheikh Refaa's neaorlptioo of, 

7; Fruit-market of, 97 
Pearls. 338 

Penianee Myrtles, 455 
Pericles, 365. 374 
Persian Manners, 411 
Plaster Figures and Casts. 894 
Polar Circle, temperature of the, 66 
Population and Food, 139 
Poultry and Eggs, 392> 

Prisons. Dutch. 174 
Profession, choice of a. 135 
Public Improvements: London, 
Provincial Towns, 501 


Quacks and Quack Medicines, 48?, 495 

Quagga, tlio. 199 

Racoon, the, 9 

Railway Trips. 329 

" Raising of Laxariu," fn the National 

Gallery. 185 
Rat-catchers and Rat-catching, 257 
Reading. 344 
Reading aud Writing, on tbe proportion 

ofpersons In England capable of, 319, 

Reflecting Mirrors, on. 285 
Registration, previous state of the law 

with respect to. 400 

sykiarlk. the Fair of. 297 
Rhinoceros Ketloa, 100 
Rich and Poor. relative pos'tionsof, 139 
Richard I.. Cceur de Liou : interesting 

discoveries in the Cathedral of Rouen 

In Normandv, 412 
Roadside Groups, 852 
Robert, Leopold, 353 
Rural Districts, necessity of instruction 

in. 347 
Russia, lusnry of, £U 

St. Omir, town of, 473 

Samphire, the, 4il 

Sandwich Islands, education in the, 223 

Sardis, 433 

Savage and Social Life, virtues of, 156 

Savings' Banks for Corn, 104 

fiennaar, 190 

Shawl-goat, the, in Europe and Anstra- 

Sicily. salt-works in, 309 
Silk, substitutes for, 143 
Snow, effect of, on crops, 308 
Society, characteristics of, 103 
Sounds, natural language of, 432 
Stage-coaches, in Great Britaiu, number 

of travellers By, 244 
Steam Navigation, 235 
Sunday-hiring in Northumberland, 268 
Susquehanna River, tlio, 438 


Tarai, the, 93 

Tartars, the, in Hungary, 180 

Tax-gatherlug in Hgypt, 472 

Thames Water, 139 

Timor, agriculture of, 800 

Tortoiseshell Ornaments, on th oianu* 

facture of, 299 
Touasaint L*Onverture, 121 
Trade, restrictions on, 56; Foreign, 960 
Trees, 872 
Truffle-hunting, 89 
Tulips, on the commercial value of. In 

the 17th century, 455 
Tunis and Tripoli, 19 

Umttbd Statxs, the coal-region of the, 
9x7 ; the English language as spoken 
in the, 978 

Vixmokt. the copperas-mines of, 397 
Victoria Rogiua. the, 20 
Violin, a cheap, 946 

Waxis, a tour in, 161 , 201 , 289 
War Expenditure, real effects of, 935 
Washington, character of, 451 
West's Pictures in the National Gallery, 

Wiesbaden, 198 
Wilbcrforce, William, 415, 427 
Windsor Castle, prisoners in*. 372 
Wood-chuck, or Ground-hog, the, 347 
Woodpecker, the, 179 
Woods In Winter, 480 
Wolves and Wolf-hunting In America, 


Eccmioax Gaxdiks, Regent's Park, 

Digitized by 





J nterior of the Pointed Hull, Gi een- 
wich Hospital 1 

Harmuir. the supposed scone of 
Maclieth's Interview with the 
Witches 49 

Isi.k of Pohtland: — 

Porllaud, from Saudsfoot Cattle 57 

Quarry 68 

Western Cliffs . . . .69 
Chesil Hank .... 88 

Lady Place. Hurley, Berks . . CO 

Vaults at . . .61 

Walks:— .- 

New Bridge on the Taff . .161 
Lcaniug Tower of Caerphilly . 164 

Pembroke Castle • • 

Harlech Castle 

Pulpit of Hugh Llwyd 

Trneth Mawr ...» 

Conway Castle • • 

Pont-y-l*air . • • • 
Beach at Hastings . . • 
Leeds Castle, Kent . . . 
Nelson's Monument, South Denes, 

Yarmouth . ... 233 

Hever Castle, Kent . . .284 


Entrance to the Euston square 
Station 329 


Southern Entrance of the Prim- 
rose-hill Tunnel . . . 33'-> 
Viaduct over the Upper Avon . 348 
Entrauce to the Birmingham Sta- 
tion, Nova Scotia Gardens . 356 
Folheriugay, Northamptonshire . 393 

Londox: — 
New Egyptian Room, British 

Museum .... 436 
Map of London in time of Queen 

Elizabeth . . . .457 
Fishmongers' Hall . . . 4C0 
Dividend Office at the Bank .461 

Tavern, corner of Bow-street and 

L»ng Acre . • . 
College of Surgeons . 
University Club-house . 
Hliud School . 
New Palace Gateway 

FitzwiHiam Muwum, Cambridge 
Victoria Kooms, Bristol 
New Huilding*. Derby. 
New Church, Yaruiontlj 
Abbey Chinch, livth, restored 
News" Rooms, lx-h-estcr 
Medical Iustilutiou, Liverpool 



. !■:* 
, 4ii 
, 4*,1 
. 4€l 



, 5t)i 

. 5mi 

, M 

, 5«H 

. 5;jtJ 

Roman Amphitheatre at Elgem . 12 
Falls of Mont morenci . . .28 
Map of Upper and Lower Canada . 32 
Obelisk of Luxor, Place Louis XVI., 

Paris ** 81 

Mnrclte aux Fruits, Qua! de la 

Tournellc, Paris . . .97 
Public Rooms at Wiesbaden . . 193 
Pass of the Gemmi and Baths of 

Leuk 217 

Old Hall in the Place do Bruges . 265 
Caived Fire place in the Palace de 

Justice, Bruges . . . 27*> 

Ruins of Caiaarea, in Palestine . ¥81 


Salt-springs in Sicily . . . 309 i 
Petrified Cascade in Pnmbouk Ka- 

lesi, the ancient Hierapolis, in 

Asia Minor .... 
The Exchange, Antwerp 
Jardin Botauique, Brussels . 
Salt-hills at Cardona, in Catalouia 

Empire of Japan:— 

Simonoseki, a sea\iort on the 
south-west of Niphon, the chief 
island of Japan . . . 37 7 ! 

Public Road through cultivated 
grouuds .... 380| 

View of a Street in Constantinople 

Cave of Surtshellir, or the Cuicrti 
of the Robbers, near the Bald 
Yokul. Iceland . 

Portrait of Richard CoMir-de-Lion. 
— Taken from his Tomb at Foule- 

Efligy of Richard Cceur de-Lion. — 
From the Statue found at 

Patria. the Church Missionary Es- 
tablishment in the Bay of Llands, 
New Zealand .... 

Fossvollum, in Iceland . . * . 


Medal struck by Napoleon to 
commemorate the luvasionof 
England .... 

Catherine de* Medici*.— Si ruck to 
commemorate the Ma*sicteof 
St. Bartholomew . 

Aucieut Boulogne Flagon. 

Old Drinking Cup . 

Auoienl Sling .... 

Hruiu Cap .... 

Trebuchet .... 

St. Oarer, Lntrauce to, from Paris . 





U ) 
4, J 


Chippeway Indians attacking a 

bear . . . . .33 

Canuda — Sleigh driving . . 3»> 

I«og-housc . . .40 

Annual Distiibut on of Presents to 

the Indians of North America . 4$ 
Canadian Voyagers . . .52 
Korauna Hottentots preparing to 

remove . . . ■ .73 
Kuflre Man and Woman . . 77 
KaflTres on a march . • .80 
Bushman au'l Hush wont an . 
Bushman armed for an expedi- 

Sussex Truffle-hunter . 
Harvest In Normandy . . 

.'hips of the Time of Richard II. . 

Ships of War of the 15th century . 

Ships and Galleys of War of the 
15 th century .... 

The Henri Grace a-Dien.— From a 
picture in G eenwich Hospital . 

Military Costume of the Circas- 

Coverings for the Feet, 20 figures, 1 72, 
21 figures, 180, 
26 figures, 184, 

84 M.»rch of n C*.ra\an . 

Interior of a Cale at Constantinople 
86 Rut catcher with his Dogs . 
89 Icelanders arriving from the Iuto- 
105 rior at the lair of Reykiurik . 

Canoe and Natives off Cape Wau- 
gari, New Zealand . . . 325 

Fishermen of the Port of Chiog!?ii", 
near Venice, preparing for the 
deep sea Fishejp . . . 353 

Head of a Japanese . . .3*1 

Interior of an Esquimaux House at 
Frederickshaab. ou the Western 
Coast of Greenland . . . 385 

Annual Embassy of the Dutch ou 
its match, in the Empire of Japan 396 

Natives of New Zealand dancing 
on board the French corvette 
L'Astrolabe . . . .417 

A Turcoman Girl giving drink to 
an exhausted traveller . . 433 


The Racoon 

The Victoria Regina 

under side of 

9i Rhinoceros Kclloa 

the leaf 

The Orang-Outan of the Zoological 
Society • , . 

. 100 
The Quagga— Hunt . . . 1£> 

Wild Hoar of South Africa . . HO 
Oxeu of South Africa . . . 145 
Hippopotamus and Crocodile — 
Combat and Hunt . . . 209 

The Badger 245 

The Caoutchouc Tree (Fiats Etas- 

tied) 337 

The Aye- Aye (jCheiromyt Madayas- 

carkmis) . . . . • 425 

Public Mourning Women of the 

EaA 476 

A Turk A Harem -From LnWde 4^4 


Bringing in tlie Hoax's Ilea:!. — 
Fioui a diawing by W. U. 
Ross. Esq. .... 493 
Bringing iu the Yule kig — From 
a drawing by the same . . 4'. , 3 

Count Alexandiede Lal»ordc( por- 
trait) in his travelling costume 
(Constantinople) . . . 4J7 

Count I-ooti ile Ltbordt* (portrait ) 
in his travelling costume iCuru- 
manja) ..... 500 

British Wild Cuttle, of Chilliughani 
P'irk 441 

Male and Female Bottle Tit (P«r»t 
CatulatuSi Ray) and Nest. — 

jjf rom specimen . , . 4S1 


St. Vincent de Paul ... 4 
" The Fortune Teller." — Sir J. 

Reynolds 1/ 

*' Death of General Wolfe."— B. 

We#t ... . .25 
" Orpheus civilizing the inhabitants 

of Thrace."— Barry . . . 65 " The Spanish Armada."— J. P. d© 
" Grecian Harvest-home." — Harry 9:2 Loutherbourg .... 157 
- Victors at Olympia."— Barry . 108 ( " Eecc Homo." — Correggio . . 177 

Gioupfrom 109 " Raising of Lazarus."— Sebastian 
DUto . 113! dclPiombo . . . . 185 

Homer.— From a bnst in the British 
Museum 133 

" Elysium, or the State of Final Re- 
tribution." — Barry . . . 143 

Group from , . 149 

Ditto . . . .153 

John Howard— Portrait . .212 

Jean Frederic Oberliu — Portrait . 220 
Christ healing the Sick in the 
Temple" 236 

The Crown offered to Harold by the 
People. — From the Baycux Ta- 
pestry . . . . .251 

Coronation of Harold. — From the 
same 251 

Coronation of a Getmau Prince. — 
Montfaucon .... 25G 

Cicero.— Ptom an Antique Bust . 
Dr. Jenuer.— Portrait . 
Queen Anne Boleyu.— Portrait 
" Poesy," of RaffneUe. — From a 

Fresco in the Vatican . . 

Pericles — Bust, from the original :u 

the British Muichm . 
M The School of Athens/— From 

Raflaelle's Fresco Painting m 

the Vatican .... 
Demosthenes. — From an Anticiuo 

Bust . . . . . 



36i ; 

3<» I 

Kobin Hootl and Little Jehn. . 169 
1'arliameut Oak iu Clipstone Park 240 
Robin Hood aud the Tanner . 24 1 
Oaks in W id beck Park . . 273 

Robin Hoods Well, near Doncaster 301 


Robin Hood's Stride, or Mock Beg- 
gars' Hall, near Blrchoven, iu 
Youlgrave, Derbyshire . . 313 

Robin Hood's " brave fellows" pre- 
paring to dress *« fat ven'son by 
the highway side" . . .321 

Grave of Little John, in Hathersage 
Churchyard, Derbyshire . . 369 

Sir Cauline 404 

The Chllde of EUe . . . 42S\ 

The Heir of Linne and John o* Uie 
Scules 4(& 

The Frii»r of Orders Gray and the 
Pilgrim • • • • 



A Iphaoels forth Blind . . 112|Tcmple erected by the Black po- 
Tous-aint L'Ouverture, in the cos- pulation of Hayti to commereo- 

lumeofCominnDdintofthearmy I rate their ludepcudeuce • • 

oftUyU • . # . . 121} 

IFac-simile of tlie subscription to a J" The Sovereign of th* Seas," Eujr- 
letter written by Toussaiut . 128 lish man of war, burll 1637 . 3K 

Regalia of th« Kings and Queens | 
of England . . * • . 249< 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[January 6, 1838. 


[Interior of the Painted Hall, Greenwich Hospital.] 

The u Painted Hall" in Greenwich Hospital is divided 
into three rooms, the whole of which are before the eye 
tf the spectator as he enters the vestibule. The vesti- 
ge is surmounted by one of the two domes which adorn 
Greenwich Hospital — the great height of the lantern, and 

* Greenwich Hospital has been described in vol. i. p. 97 of the 
' Penny Magazine.' Various biographical and other notices of 
&?n and events connected with our present subject have appeared 
* ti* < Penny Magasine ' — such ar sketches of Blake. Cpoke, and 

Vol. VII. 

the light thrown on the apartment below, give an air of 
grandeur to the room. A flight of a tew steps leads to 
the principal room or hall, a noble oblong apartment, the 
roof of which is painted, and the walls are hung with 
the pictures constituting the Naval Gallery. The 

Nelson, in vol. i.; of Exmouth in vol. ii. ; a brief account of the 
Armada, in the description of the tapestry destroyed in ihe fire of 
the Houses of Parliament, in vol. iii. ; and different accounts sf 
the loss of the Royal George in vols, i., iii., and iv. 


Digitized by 



[January 6. 

third roam is called the Upper Hall— it has no pictures, 
but the walls are painted, and it contains various objects 
of curiosity, models of ships of war, the coat worn by 
Nelson at the battle of the Nile, &c. The view of the 
three rooms from the entrance of the vestibule is very 


The c< Painted Hall," says the Introduction to the 
Catalogue of the Gallery, (which is sold to visitors) " was 
originally employed as the Refectory for the whole esta- 
blishment : the upper chamber being appropriated to the 
table of the officers— the lower to the pensioners. But 
when the growing revenue of the institution gradually led 
to an increase of the number of its inmates, the space 
proved inadequate to their accommodation ; the table of 
the officers was discontinued, and other dining-halls for 
the men were provided on the basement story. This 
noble apartment had been thus left unoccupied nearly a 
century, when, in the year 1794, Lieutenant-Governor 
Locker suggested that it should be appropriated to the 
service of of a National Gallery of Marine Paintings, to 
commemorate the eminent services of the Royal Navy of 
England. The judicious design was not then realized ; 
but in 1823 it was revived, with happier success, by his 
son, who submitted to the commissioners and governor, 
a proposition on the subject, which, after due consider- 
ation, was finally adopted. The Painted Hall was ac- 
cordingly prepared for the reception of works of art ; and 
he having undertaken the task of procuring an extensive 
series of pictures, by gratuitous contributions, the present 
valuable collection of paintings iu a few years has amply 
rewarded his hereditary zeal for the completion of this inte- 
resting object. Having submitted the plan to King George 
the Fourth, it was honoured with the cordiul approval of his 
Majesty, who, with that promptitude which distinguished 
his liberality, gave immediate directions that the exten- 
sive and valuable series of portraits of the celebrated ad- 
mirals of the reigns of King Charles the Second and 
King William the Third, at Windsor Castle and Hamp- 
ton Court, should be transferred to Greenwich Hospital 
as a munificent donation to the intended gallery. King 
George the Fourth subsequently presented several other 
valuable paintings, for the same object, from his private 
collection at St. James's Palace and Carlton House. 

" The generous example of that accomplished monarch 
was promptly followed by many noble and other liberal 
benefactors to the Naval Gallery, whose names are re- 
corded in this catalogue of donations ; and thus in a few 
years the walls were adorned with the portraits of most 
of our celebrated naval commanders, and representations 
of their actions. To these his late Majesty King Wil- 
liam the Fourth, in the year 1835, was graciously pleased 
to add five valuable pictures." 

This splendid national gallery is freely open to the 
visitors of Greenwich Hospital. No door-keepers stand 
in the entrance holding out their hands for fees. One of 
the pensioners, indeed, points to a little box on a table in 
the vestibule, and tells you that you may, if you please, 
add your mite to a fund which is appropriated to the 
support of the orphans of those who have helped to Bus- 
tain the naval glory of Old England. 

On cither side of the vestibule are four statues, casts 
from the statues in St. Paul's cathedral, of Nelson and 
Duncan, St. Vincent and Howe. Between the statues 
of Nelson and Duncan, on the right of the entrance, is 
hung Turner's large picture of the battle of Trafalgar ; 
beneath it four portraits of naval commanders, Ix>rd 
Dartmouth, Lord Mulgrave, Sir John Warren, and 
Captain Franklyn ; and beneath these, near the ground, 
are the relief of Gibraltar, and the defeat of the French 
fleet under the command of the Comte de Grasse, both 
actions achieved by the gallant Rodney. On the oppo- 
site side, between the statues of St. Vincent and Howe, 
is hung a large picture painted by Loutherbourg, of 
Howe's victory over the French fleet off Ushant, on the 

1st of June, 1194; and beneath it portraits of naval 
commanders, and pictures, arranged similarly to those on 
the right side. High above, in the cupola, are hung the 
flags taken in the battles won by Howe, St. Vincent, 
Duncan, and Nelson. 

But who is this grave looking burgher on our right 
hand as we enter the vestibule? He surely is not 
English, and least of all a sailor, neat, clean, and trim, 
as he seems ; a latent smile is struggling to play over 
his thoughtful face. " Marten Harpertsz Tromp, Knt., 
lieutenant-admiral of Holland and West Freizland, slain 
in fight with the English fleet off the Texel." Ha ! the 
Van Tromp who swept our channel with a broom at his 
mast-head, and defied old Blake, one of the bravest 
sailors that ever trod an English deck ! This is honour- 
able to us ; there should be more such portraits of the 
brave men whose defeats make up the fame of our naval 
commanders ; in contrasting Van Tromp with Blake, we 
can understand something of — 

" That stern joy which warriors feel 
In foemen worthy of their steel." 

Altogether, the vestibule is a noble introduction to the 
hall. Besides the statues, it contains twenty-eight pic- 
tures, large and small, arranged with considerable taste. 
On either side of the flight of steps leading to the Hall 
are a view of the old palace of Greenwich, 1690, (before 
its endowment as an hospital), and a view of Wind --or 
Castle, as it appeared in the same year — both pictures 
painted by Vosterman. There is also a portrait, by Sir 
James Thornhill, of " John Worley, aged 97, one of the 
first pensioners admitted into the Hospital." 

Ascending the steps into the Hall, let us first direct 
our attention to the ceiling. It was painted by Sir James 
Thornhill in 1 703, and subsequent years. In the cen- 
tral compartment appear King William and Queen Mary, 
surrounded by emblematical personages, intended to 
typify national prosperity; and the compartments are 
crowded with figures representing the seasons, the ele- 
ments, the zodiac, with portraits of Copernicus, Newton, 
&c, with emblems of science and naval trophies. 

The pictures in this spacious apartment are arranged 
somewhat chronologically ; beginning at the left-hand 
corner with the Armada and the naval heroes of Queen 
Elizabeth's reign, and continued from the left to the 
right-hand side of the room, ending on the right-hand 
side of the entrance with the bombardment of Algiers by 
Lord Exmouth. 

First, on the left-hand cornerwe have Howard of Effing- 
ham, who dared to disobey the orders of an imperious 
mistres?, and prepared to meet the Armada. But he is 
dressed now, not for the quajfer-deck, but the court, and 
looks grand in his robes, rufi^ and staff. Below him arc 
a group of three as singular characters as ever looked 
out from one canvass — Hawkins, Drake, and Cavendish. 
Is that thin bare face Cavendish's, who, after circum- 
navigating the globe, and capturing the richly-laden 
Spanish galleon, wrote at the end of his voyage, tc I 
burnt and sunk nineteen sail of ships, small and great, 
and all the villages and towns that ever I landed at I 
burned and spoiled !" 

Raleigh ! brilliant, restless spirit ! Was Mr. At- 
torney-General Coke in the right when he taxed thee with 
having " an English face but a Spanish heart ?" There 
thou art, in thy great trunk breeches and huge roses iu 
thy shoes — whatever were thy faults, thou art a noble - 
looking Englishman. At all eveuts he died -as he h«ui 
lived, a brave man. " I can say no more," he wrote to 
his affectionate wife, " time and death call me away." 

The next picture is rather out of its chronological ar- 
rangement — it comes after instead of before " The defeax 
of the Spanish Armada." It is " King Henry VIII. in. 
H.M.S. Henri-Grace-a-Dieu, sailing to Calais for tlxe. 
celebrated conference with Francis 1. of France, 1520.** 
Clumsy old Harry Grace- a-Dieu was a father of shij>&^ 

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It was built in 1515, when we were almost guiltless of 
having a navy; launched at Erith on the Thames,— the 
first double-decker that was ever built in England. Look 
at this wonder and boast of its day — it carries its name- 
sake, bluff Harry, across the channel to " the field of 
the cloth of gold." 

The chief pictures on this* side of the room are, the 
battle of Southwold Bay between the English and Dutch 
in 1612 ; Captain T. Harman, in H.M.S. Tygcr, de- 
fending a fleet of English colliers against an attack of 
eight Dutch privateers in the same year ; the same Cap- 
tain in the same vessel carrying off a Dutch frigate in 
triumph in 1614 ; the battle off Barfieur in 1692, be- 
tween the English and French ; the destruction of the 
French fleet in the same year in the port of La Hogue, 
by Admiral Sir George Rooke ; the victory of Sir George 
Byng over the Spanish fleet in 1718; Sir Edward 
Hawke's victory over the French fleet in Quiberon Bay 
in 1759; Admiral Barrington's defence of St. Lucia in 
1T7S ; and the Experiment, of twenty guns, boarding Le 
Telemaque, a French privateer, off Alicante in 1757. 
The portraits are numerous — the most noted characters 
represented are brave, blunt, Blake ; Sir George Rooke, 
who shattered the French naval power, by the destruc- 
tion of the fleet in Cape La Hogue ; Byng, the father 
of the ill-used admiral ; unfortunate Sir Cloudesly 
vShovell ; Lord Hawke ; and sturdy Benbow, who almost 
literally u fought upon his stumps," for, when, aban- 
doned by his cowardly or treacherous officers, and fight- 
ing a fleet with his single ship, his leg was shattered by 
a ball, he commanded himself to be carried up to the 
deck, that he might still see the battle. 

Crossing to the other side of the room, the first remark- 
able picture that catches the eye is " The Death of Cap- 
tain Cooke." Who has not sailed with him in search of 
the Terra Australis Incognita, the unknown continent 
which it was affirmed must exist, as a counterpoise to the 
great mass of land in the northern hemisphere? He 
entered the southern ocean, not as a buccaneer, to plunder 
and destroy, but to add to the stores of science and with- 
draw the curtain which hid one portion of the world from 
the other. There is something very painful in the con- 
templation of the scene of his death : that remarkable 
face — remarkable from its expression, not its beauty — 
in its last convulsive agony, while infuriated natives are 
brandishing their weapons over him— -one of the most 
humane and considerate men that ever came in contact 
with rude aborigines falling a victim to their mistaken 

Passing by " Sir Samuel Hood's engagement with the 
French fleet under the Comte de Grasse in 1182," let 
us look on a gayer scene: " King George III. with his 
Queen and royal family, presenting a sword to Admiral 
Earl Howe, on board the Queen Charlotte, after the 
victory of the 1st of June, 1794." It was " a diamond- 
hihed sword, valued at three thousand guineas.' ' The 
king, with the queen by Ins side, is in the act of hand- 
ing to the old veteran the honourable testimony of appro- 
bation ; the deck is crowded by ladies, and the officers of 
die admiral, all gazing on the scene ; while in the 
shrouds a gallant sailor, hat in hand, is about to give the 
fignal for a general, cordial, and thrilling cheer. 

There is that " soul of fire," Nelson, leaping into the 
San Josef ! Well may yc be astonished, Spaniards : 
5 wxr forefathers, when Blake confounded them, " com- 
&*ted themselves with the belief that they were devils 
and not men that had destroyed them in such a manner;" 
mud here is our modern Blake rushing on their descend- 
ants. In that battle which made Sir John Jervis Earl 
N. Vincent, Nelson performed " prodigies of valour." 
\ The San Nicholas " took the wind" out of the sails of 
k XeJ^n's vessel, and it lay almost unmanageable, with its 
r tiering nearly destroyed — what was to be done ? ' Put 
I lbs helm a-lee !' cries the gallant commander, * and run 

on board the Spaniard. Come Berry, marines, and 
boarders !' The San Nicholas and the San Josef were 
foul of each other. Like lightning they dash across the 
San Nicholas, carry her, then jump into the San Josef, 
" where the astonished Spaniards called for quarter, and 
the captain of that ship presented on his knee the sword 
of his admiral, who having been desperately wounded 
could not do it in person."* 

Close by this picture is a memorial of another great 
naval engagement fought in the same year as that of 
Cape St. Vincent, the Battle of Camperdown. Admiral 
Duncan had been long watching for the Dutch fleet in 
the Texel. At kst it ventured out ; the news flew to 
the English admiral ; he " dashed at them," got be- 
tween them and their own coast, and forced an engage- 
ment. The picture is, " Admiral de Winter delivering 
his sword to the British Commander-in-chief." The 
two admirals are fine-looking men : Captain Brenton 
says they were two of the tallest and finest men of their 
fleets ; indeed, on entering the vestibule, and comparing 
the statues of Nelson and Duncan, one is struck with 
the commanding and lordly air of the latter. The battle 
of Camperdown was fought with great bravery on both 
sides ; the two commanding admirals were men of 
undoubted courage. After the battle, De Winter dined 
with Duncan on board the Venerable, and they con- 
cluded the evening with a rubber of whist ! 

And now behold as terrific an engagement as ever 
was fought at sea ; the Battle of the Nile. What a 
scene ! The Theseus, as she passed between the Zea- 
lous and her opponent, the Guerrier, poured in a broad- 
side as she brushed the sides of the French vessel : for 
this " friendly act M the crew of the Goliath gave three 
hearty cheers, which the crew of the Theseus returned. 
The French tried to imitate the animating peals, but the 
attempt was a failure, and it was mocked by the crew of 
the Theseus in loud explosive bursts of laughter. " The 
captain of the Guerrier owned that those cheers did more 
to damp the ardour of his men than the broadside of the 

Let us take a last look of Nelson. The adjoining 
picture represents him expiring " in the hour of victory" 
in the cockpit of his vessel. " The most triumphant 
death is that of the martyr : the most awful that of the 
martyred patriot : the most splendid that of the hero in 
the hour of victory." 

The remaining great picture is, " The Bombardment 
of Algiers by Viscount Exmouth in 1816." In the 
corner is a small accompaniment to this picture, which, 
though out of chronological order, makes a very fitting 
contrast — " Captain Sir John Kcmpthornc, in the Mary 
Rose frigate, overcomes seven Algerine corsairs, 1699." 
One would almost think that the nests of pirates on the 
African coast had been specially permitted by Provi- 
dence to exist, to hold up before our eyes the two sides 
of slavery— white and black; the European slave in 
Africa, the African slave dragged by Europeans from 
his country. Now, we have declared slavery to be 
legally abolished, and are doing what we can to get 
other nations to follow our example. The French now 
occupy Algiers, and have finally broken up the trade of 
the descendants of Barbarossa. 

We have not, of course, enumerated all the pictures 
in this "Naval Gallery;' a large number of portraits 
are hung along the right side of the Hall, of which we 
can only mention those of Anson, Cooke, St. Vincent, 
Nelson, and Exmouth. The Naval Gallery is a proud 
monument of the glory of England. For though war is 
a bitter curse, and it is the peculiar work of civilization 
to render it less frequent in its occurrence, and of shorter 
duration when it does occur, no man can look around upon 
these trophies without feeling a portion of that enthusiasm 

• Captain Brenton* t Naval History, vol. n, p. 154. 

Digitized by 



[January 6, 

scattered the French 
ited in the early part 
meteor flag" burned 
Jarvis, Duncan, and 
been still vigorous 
rs and Codrington 
ist occasion of war 
>ut that future naval 
elop their energies — 
er into play in naval 

[St. Vincent 

[In previous numbers of the 'Penny Magazine,* we have 
given brief memoirs of some eminent persons who have been dis- 
tinguished for the zeal and activity of their benevolence. Amongst 
those recently published were Montyon, Kyrle, and Captain 
Coram. We shall continue the series, with portrait*, during the 
present volume.] 


Vincent di Paul was born in the year 1576, at Ran- 
quines, a little hamlet of Pouy, not far from the Pyren- 
nees. Pouy 19 in the diocese of Acqs and department 
of Landee. Vincent's parents were owners of a cottage 
and some fields ; and he, the third son in a family of 
six children, was employed in his youth to take charge 
of the few sheep and swine which constituted a chief 
portion of the available property of a poor but indus- 
trious household. 

A son of one of the peasants of Pouy, poorer even 
than Vincent's family, nad entered the church, rose in 
his profession, obtained a priory, and provided for his 

de St. Paul.] 
relations. Vincent, in his youth, exhibited traits of a 
thoughtful and intelligent mind. His parents asked 
themselves why might not he rise in the church as well 
as their neighbour's son, and do good in after-life for 
his brothers and sisters, or even for themselves, when old 
age would enfeeble them ? He was therefore sent to 
school in the town of Acqs ; and by the time he was six- 
teen years of age, procured a situation in the family of a 
magistrate of Pouy as tutor, and was thus enabled to 
reduce the expenses of his own family in contributing 
to his education. But his father, on his death-bed, en- 
joined his family to continue their exertions to enable 
Vincent to complete his studies. Sir Walter Scott lias 
made the fact of the prevalence of a similar feeling in 
Scotland familiar to his readers. It prevails also very 
strongly amongst the small farmers of Ireland. None 
but those who have actually witnessed it can comprehend 
the extent to which it is carried. We have known a 
hard-working mechanic denying himself the commonest 
enjoyments, and the rest of the family submitting to 

Digitized by 




hard fare with scarcely a murmur, that the favourite 
bookish son might be enabled to go through the uni- 

Vincent did realize his family's hopes by becoming 
an eminent man ; but they were disappointed in other 
respects. Many years after his father's death, when he 
had risen to considerable distinction, he visited Pouy, 
and took up his abode with the cure* of the village. He 
then assembled his relations together, told them that it 
was his determination to live and die a poor man, and 
that it was his conviction that money given by ecclesi- 
astics to their families seldom prospered. He conjured 
them, therefore, to remain contented with their lot. " At 
a subsequent time, hearing they were in great distress, 
he distributed among them a legacy which had been 
bequeathed to him of about one hundred pounds English 
money. This, and the present of a few shillings, which 
he once made to his brother, was, notwithstanding very 
large sums passed through his hands, all the temporal 
aid which his family received from him." * This, how- 
ever, was carrying disinterestedness to an extreme. A 
man who has been assisted, by the self-denial of his 
family, to attain an elevated position, owes them a debt, 
which, if judiciously and honestly discharged, may confer 
very substantial benefit on them, and not be inconsistent 
with a wider culture of beneficence. 

Vincent went to Toulouse, and entered the university ; 
but finding his finances insufficient, he opened a school 
in the neighbouring village of Buset. He continued, 
says the ' Biographie Universelle,' " during seven years 
alternately master and scholar ; giving lessons to acquire 
the means of living, and receiving, at the same time, the 
learning necessary to qualify him as an ecclesiastic." 
In 1660, when he was twenty-four years of age, he was 
ordained by the Bishop of Perigueux. 

Five years afterwards he went to Marseilles to receive 
a legacy which had been left to him. Intending to 
return to Toulouse he was induced by a friend to embark 
with him on board a felucca which was about to sail from 
Marseilles across the Gulf of Lyons to Narbonne. " I 
embarked," said Vincent, in a letter written in 1607, 
" for Narbonne, with the intention of saving both time 
and money : but I should rather say, never to reach it, 
and to lose all." Three Tunisian corsair-ships, which 
were cruising off the coast in the Gulf, for the purpose 
of plundering vessels going to or returning from the 
celebrated fair of Beaucaire on the Rhone, discovered 
tbem, and gave chase. The crew and passengers of the 
felucca attempted a defence, in which several persons were 
lolled on both sides, and Vincent himself was wounded 
*ith an arrow. The pirates, on boarding the vessel, 
enraged by the resistance which had cost them the lives 
of four or five of their rowers, cut down the captain of 
the felucca, and put the crew and passengers, all of 
whom were wounded, in chains. After remaining seven 
or eight days in the Gulf of Lyons, during which they 
plundered several other vessels, " giving, notwithstand- 
ing, liberty to those who made no resistance, after they 
had robbed them," the pirates sailed for Tunis, on 
reaching which, in order to escape the interference of 
the French consul, they drew up an act of the seizure, 
in which they falsely stated that Vincent and his com- 
panions had been taken from a Spanish vessel. 

Vincent describes the sale of himself and companions 
at Tunis, a process, the particulars of which have been 
much the same, whether the persons sold were white or 
black. The merchants who came to buy them examined 
them, he says, as they would " a horse or cow." He 
*as sold to a fisherman, who, not finding him of much 
l&i sold him again to an old physician, a medical 
demist, ** a great extracter of essences," and who had 
"*n for fifty years in search of the philosopher's stone. 
But he was better than all this — " a man very humane 
♦ ' Ufa of Vincent do Paul,' by Charles Butler, Esq. 

and tractable.** - The kind-hearted old man found out 
that Vincent was learned and intelligent, and therefore 
laboured with great assiduity, by dint of long lectures, to 
convert him to a belief in alchemy and Mohammedanism. 
But not even the temptation of inheriting the physician's 
wealth could induce Vincent to avow a belief which he 
did not entertain ; he " held fast his integrity," and to 
the credit of the old man's tolerating spirit be it told, 
that he did not treat his slave any the worse for his per- 
severance in what doubtless seemed ignorance and obsti- 
nacy. Vincent lived with this master from September, 
1605, till August, 1606. The physician was called upon 
to travel, and died on the road ; and Vincent, with his 
old master's goods, passed into the possession of a 
nephew, a man whose character was the reverse of that 
of his uncle's. He did not suffer long from his inhu- 
manity. A rumour prevailed that the French ambas- 
sador was coming, armed with power from Constan- 
tinople, to recover the Christian slaves ; and the crafty 
Mussulman got rid of Vincent profitably, by selling him 
to a native of Nice who had settled in Africa, and had 
embraced Mohammedanism. This man sent him out 
to his farm, "on a mountain, in a hot and desert 
country." One of his master's wives was a Turkish 
lady, and evidently must have been a woman of some 
intelligence and activity of mind. Curious to know 
something of the Christians, she used to follow Vincent 
into the fields, and interrupted his labour by her ques- 

One day she asked him to sing one of the sacred songs 
of the Christians. " The recollection," says Vincent, 
(on whose authority all this portion of his life is told) of 
the ' Quomodo cantabimus in terra aliena' of the chil- 
dren of Israel, captives in Babylon, made me commence, 
with the tear in my eye, the Psalm ' Super flumina 
Babylonia,** and then the ' Salve Regina,' and several 
others." The lady was delighted and astonished ; she 
told her husband in the evening that he had done wrong 
in abandoning the Christian religion, which she thought 
extremely good, and that the paradise of the Christians 
seemed to her a more glorious and happy one than that 
of her fathers. Her husband was struck with remorse ; 
next day he told Vincent, that as soon as he could arrange 
his affairs he would make his escape with him. Six 
months afterwards they returned across the Mediterranean 
in a small boat, and landed safely at Aigues-Mortes on 
the 28th of June, 1607. From thence they went on to 
Avignon, where the renegade made his public recantation 
in the church of St. Peter. We are not told what be- 
came of the lady. Vincent terms her " another Caiaphas, 
or as the ass of Balaam," an instrument of conveying 
truths which she did not herself comprehend, But she 
deserves a far higher character. • 

The vice-legate, in whose presence the recantation had 
been made, carried Vincent and his companion with him 
to Rome. Here the re-converted man entered a convent ; 
and Vincent was presented to the Pope, and was intro- 
duced to the ambassadors of the French king at Rome. 
They sent him to Paris on a mission of some importance, 
where he arrived in the beginning of 1609. This pro- 
cured him several interviews with Henry IV. 

On his arrival in Paris, he took up his residence in 
the Faubourg St. Germain, near the Hopitfl de la 
Charit6. He now devoted all his leisure to the service 
of the sick in the hospital — and from this period may be 
dated the commencement of that career of active benevo- 
lence which distinguished his long life. His patience 
and strength of character were put to a severe test about 
this period. While travelling in the Bordelois, he lodged 
at Sore. A magistrate who occupied the same apartment 
was robbed of a sum of money, and accused Vincent as 
the thief. As his name had become somewhat public, 
from his singular adventures, the accusation became 

* The 137th of our version, " by the rivers of Babylon," Ac. 

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[January 6, 

generally known. There was no proof that he had heen 
guilty : yet the imputation hung over him for six years. 
The real thief being imprisoned for another offence, con- 
fessed ; and Vincent's accuser cleared his character by 
making him a public reparation. 

In 1611 he was made Cure' of Clichy, near Paris, 
where he acquired his first ministerial reputation. The 
general standard of character amongst the great body of the 
French clergy was at that time very low ; and the spec- 
tacle of a priest devoting his whole faculities to the duties 
of his office, and preaching with great earnestness and 
zeal, drew marked attention towards him. He raised 
subscriptions amongst opulent friends for the rebuilding 
of his parish church ; and established a society or con- 
fraternity for the purpose of visiting and relieving his 
poor parishioners. 

In 1613, he quitted his charge and entered into the 
family of Philip Emanuel de Gondi, Count de Joigni, 
general of the gallies of France, for the purpose of edu- 
cating the three sons of the Count. ' This employment 
opened to Vincent a new sphere of life and a new field of 
labour. The following is a characteristic trait : the Count, 
one morning, preparatory to setting out to fight a duel, 
attended mass. Vincent having become aware of his in- 
tention, took an opportunity, when the service was finished, 
of seriously remonstrating with him on the nature of his 
undertaking. .The remonstrance was effectual ; the Count 
sent to inform his adversary that he declined meeting him. 
We may here mention that during the period of his resi- 
dence in the family of the Count de Joigni, a brief interval 
occurs, in which he acted as Curd of Ch&tillon, in Bresse, 
where, owing to the fearful ignorance, depravity, and 
poverty that prevailed, his exertions, especially during 
the prevalence of a pestilence and famine, endeared him 
to the inhabitants. 

As commander of the royal gallics, the Count de 
Joigni had occasion frequently to visit Marseilles, and 
Vincent very often accompanied him. The situation of 
the unhappy criminals condemned to the gallies was at 
this time most horrible. When the gallies were not 
ready to receive them, they were crowded into dungeons, 
with very little air or light, and were fed on bread and 
water. Covered with vermin, ignorant, and ferocious, 
they seemed more like savage beasts than human beings. 
Vincent began the work of reformation by introducing 
himself to the criminals as their friend, one who felt for 
their sufferings, and was anxious to relieve them. He 
soon gained their confidence; the improvements which 
he effected induced the Count to mention the matter to 
Louis XIII. who made Vincent Almoner-General of the 
gallies of France ; and he received large subscriptions to 
enable him to carry forward his charitable designs. 
' The amelioration of the condition of the criminals 
condemned to the gallies was the first great work of 
Vincent de Paul : the establishment of his missionary 
college was the second. In this work he was efficiently 
supported by the Count and Countess de Joigni. The 
" congregation of the mission " was intended to afford a 
supply of teachers for the inhabitants of the French 
provinces, the members of which were considered as 
auxiliaries to the regular clergy, and were to act in sub- 
ordination to the authorities of the church. The project 
was formally approved by the Pope. The infant insti- 
tution took up its first residence in the College des 
Bons-Enfans, and afterwards in the priory of St. Laza- 
rus. The beginnings of the institution were small : but 
Vincent lived to see his "Lazarist" missionaries visiting 
the Hebrides, Ireland, Madagascar, &c., and to be able 
to exclaim, in his old age, " Behold it now spread over 
the whole world." But not only did he exert himself 
for the laity: he laboured to reform the clergy, the 
depravation of whose manners, he said, was " a principal 
cause of the ruin of the church." We may dissent from 
his opinions, and withhold our approbation from 

manner in which he carried out some of his numerous 
projects, as deficient in judgment and effectiveness ; but 
no man can refuse him the praise of uniting in his char- 
acter the spirit and activity of a Howard and a Wesley. 
Had there been more men of his stamp in France, the 
horrors of the first French revolution might have been 
greatly mitigated. 

During the reign of Louis XIII., Vincent de Paul 
was in high reputation. He attended that monarch in 
his last illness. His example stimulated both the really 
charitably-disposed, and those who were actuated by the 
mere impulses of vanity : the latter class was by far the 
most numerous, and often smothered the good that 
existed in many of the schemes that were projected. 
Under the sanction of Vincent, Mademoiselle .e Gras 
began the institution of Les Sceurs Grises (so called 
from the dress which they wore, which was grey), better 
known to the English reader as the Sisters of Charity. 
He also established a religious association of ladies fur 
the service of the poor in the Hotel Dieu ; and moved 
by the consideration of the number of infants which, in 
the middle of the seventeenth century, were exposed in 
the streets of Paris, he procured the assistance of the 
ladies and the Sisters of Charity to establish the Hos- 
pice des Enfans Trouv^s, or Foundling Hospital. Dur- 
ing the reign of Louis XIII. a large portion of 
France was exposed to all the horrors of war, pestilence, 
and famine. For successive years Vincent de Paul 
exerted himself with untiring perseverance, raised large 
sums of money, with the distribution of which he was 
entrusted, and which he regularly remitted to Picardie, 
Champagne, and Lorraine, for the relief of the inhabit- 
ants. At one time he obtained an interview with 
Richelieu, and after representing the frightful state of 
the country, besought him to " give peace to France." 
The haughty minister was touched , he dismissed Vin- 
cent kindly, assuring him that peace would soon be 
obtained, if it depended only on his own wishes. 

During the minority of Louis XIV. the queen-regent, 
Anne of Austria, instituted an ecclesiastical council, 
composed of the Cardinal Mazarin, the Chancellor, the 
Grand Penitentiary of Paris, and Vincent de Paul : the 
latter was appointed its president. But though he 
was honest, plain, and of a mild disposition, he occa- 
sionally felt what it was to be exposed to the rivalries 
and intrigues of courtiers ; and his strong attachment to 
the sacerdotal authority, an attachment which he evinced 
by implicit submission to all whom he considered his 
spiritual superiors, involved him in controversy with the 

Vincent de Paul died in 1660, aged 84, at the House 
of St. Lazarus, the head-quarters of his missionary 
establishment. He was canonized by Pope Clement 
XII. in 1737. 


I. Introduction. 

It has been stated by Dr. Watson, the author of ' Che- 
mical Essays,' that on one occasion Sir Isaac New- 
ton and Dr. Bentley met accidentally in London : and 
on Sir Isaac's enquiring what philosophical pursuits were 
carrying on at Cambridge, the Doctor replied " None — 
for when you go a-hunting, Sir Isaac, you kill all the 
game : you have left us nothing to pursue." " Not so," 
said the philosopher, " you may start a variety of game 
in every bush, if you will but take the trouble to beat 
for it." 

This reply of Sir Isaac Newton is well worthy of our 

attention, for it is applicable under every variety of 

circumstances. No philosopher is so industrious or so 

clever as to leave nothing for his cotemporaries or his 

the I successors to discover or invent : no person, however fur 

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he may be from'equalling the great men whose names 
mil be known and honoured in all ages, need despair of 
being able to add something to the amount of human 
knowledge : no situation in life, however* unfavourable, 
or however little likely to afford opportunities for scien- 
tific enquiry, is such as utterly to shut out the individual 
from the possibility of knowing and appreciating the na- 
tural wonders and beauties which surround him. James 
Ferguson followed an occupation requiring as little ex- 
ercise of mental power as any we are likely to meet with, 
namely, that of tending flocks on his native mountains : 
and yet he attained a distinguished rank among the 
scientific men of the day by his own exertions. It may 
be paid, in reference to such cases as that of Ferguson, 
that the nature of the employment in which he was en- 
gaged was such as to afford great facilities for mental 
exercise in other pursuits, because the mind, being but 
little engaged on the duties of his situation, would be at 
liberty to turn into another channel. But this remark 
does not detract from the credit due to Ferguson* and 
others similarly situated ; for the instances are far more 
numerous in which men who, with much leisure time, 
have done nothing to extend the boundaries of knowledge, 
than of men who in the midst of almost incessant toil 
and application have yet found time to discover truths 
hefore unknown, and to extend the utility of those which 
were known. 

Our object in making these remarks is to impress upon 
our readers, that we can, one and all, render service to 
our fellow beings, if we will only think and reflect on 
what we do understand, and endeavour to discover the 
causes of those things which we do not understand. 

We are aU, and at all times, surrounded with objects 
which, viewed in a right light, would form a mine of 
mental wealth to us. In the absence of any other labo- 
ratory let us " look at home," and we shall then see 
Mich an endless succession of chemical processes — of 
movements in which the mechanical forces are concerned 
—of exemplifications of the equilibrium of fluids — of the 
elasticity and expansibility of gases and vapours, — and of 
f hc application of some or all of these in the construction 
of furniture and implements, as would supply us with 
a fruitful and exhaustless source of mental employment. 
Our readers may feel assured that if they could explain 
one-half of the chemical processes carried on in the 
usual routine of domestic duties, or one-half of the laws 
»y which the mechanical arrangements of a common 
apartment are governed, they would have made a great 
advance in some of the most important of the natural 
sciences. Many of our readers will be surprised to learn 
that they have been practically engaged in Natural Phi- 
l"?ophy and Chemistry all their lives. Such however is 
undoubtedly the fact : The boy who cracks a walnut-shell 
or a lobster's claw in the hinge of a door practically 
illustrates one of the properties of the lever : the child 
* ho places his hand nearer to the handle than to the 
hinge of the door for the purpose of closing it, illus- 
t: stcs another property of the lever : a person who 
^ the poker on one of the bars of a grate, in 
" r der to raise and stir the fire, exhibits a knowledge of 
•mother species of lever : one who loosens the lid of a 
v '*d containing boiling water, does so m obedience to 
l "p law of the expansive force of steam, although he may 
' >mk he does so merely to prevent the " pot from boiling 
<Ter " We are scarcely aware that we stoop forward in 
n - 1 p5 from a chair, yet we do so in obedience to the law 
^hich regulates that the centre of gravity of a body must 

1 - Maintained, or the body will fall : a servant carrying 

2 di?h of meat before her, leans back in obedience to the 
J3 melaw. In making tea, a housewife does not think it 
]mmry that the water should boil 10 or 15 minutes 
f *fore it is poured on the herb ; the fact is, that when 
J 3 ** it boils it is fit for use, because it will never be 
^er however long it may remain on the fire, although 

it is probable that the housewife attributes the extracting 
power more to the boiling than to the temperature. A 
laundress who would at once affirm that linen could not 
be brought clean with hard water, shews a practical ac- 
quaintance with the truth that water containing lime will 
not dissolve soap, but will curdle it; and that if the soap 
be not dissolved, it will not extract the dirt from the 
linen. In filling a pail with -water from a cistern or a 
well or a pond, we do not thrust the pail down in the 
vertical position until it is wholly submerged, but incline 
it, so as to get a portion of the water in the pail as early 
in the process as possible ; the rationale of this is that 
the weight of the empty p*il is small compared with its 
bulk, and the water refuses to admit the pail without 
some pressure from above, but when a little water is in 
the pail its downward progress is accelerated. All these 
are instances (and they form but a very small portion 
of those which come under our daily observation) in 
which we are practically conversant with natural laws, 
but without reflecting that they are natural laws. We 
pursue the methods indicated in those few instances, not 
from a knowledge of the laws on which those methods 
depend, but from an experience of their truth. 

Would it not therefore be desirable for us to endeavour 
to understand the laws by which all material processes 
are governed : — to gain the master key which will open 
many doors, each of which requires a separate key for 
him who merely deals in details ? We think that this 
must be answered in the affirmative : and we wish to 
point out to the reader how he may find abundance of 
materials on which to exercise his powers of reflection. 
Let him endeavour to explain the causes of the pheno- 
mena which present themselves to his notice around his 
own fire-side, in his own domestic circle, or in the course 
of his daily avocations. A man may be a good chemist 
although his apparatus consist only of a few flasks, a 
tobacco-pipe, and a lamp; and Dr. Wollaston shewed 
that a profound philosopher might make galvanic experi- 
ments with a common thimble and two bits of wire. Let 
it not be forgotten that nothing is too small or too inr 
significant for the notice of a philosopher ; and he who 
should say that the philosophy of boiling a potatoe, or 
of shutting a door, or of dipping a pail of water, do not 
belong to science, has yet to learn what is the meaning 
of that term. 


We usually feel interested in knowing what impressions 
are made upon foreigners by those manners and institu- 
tions which are familiar to ourselves, and the interest is 
increased in proportion as the habits of the observer are 
more remote from our own. In this circumstance lies 
much of the popularity of such works as the * Turkish 
Spy,' * Peruvian Letters,' * Chinese Spy,' and the very 
clever * Hajji Baba in England,' in which the authors 
have more or less skilfully seized the points of view in 
which natives of distant countries would be most likely 
to look at our customs. A few genuine views of portions 
of Europe by natives of Asia have appeared in England, 
but they have been short, written mostly from memory, 
and by persons without much general information, who 
knew little of the language of the people they described. 
Their descriptions could in consequence extend only to 
things which they saw upon the surface of society. 

The work of which we propose to give some account 
is of superior interest. It is the production of an Egyptian 
who was sent to Paris by the Pasha of Egypt, in the year 
182r>, to acquire a knowledge of the sciences of Europe, 
and who has evidently profited by his sojourn among 
Europeans. The author's view was not to make an 
amusing book, but to communicate to his countrymen a 
knowledge of Europe, and to smooth down their preju- 
dices against Christians. He is clearly an honest Mus- 

Digitized by 




[January 6, 1838, 

8ulman, too religious to question the faith of his fathers, 
although, unlike most Mussulmans, too enlightened to 
condemn all who differ from it, particularly when those 
of the opposite faith are so superior to the followers of his 
own creed in that knowledge which he is himself suffi- 
ciently instructed to appreciate. The Sheikh Refaa was 
a regular student, educated in the usual Mohammedan 
learning, and, hefore his residence in France, was em- 
ployed by the Pasha as a sort of military chaplain v He 
calls his work * Takhlis ulahriz fi talkhisi Bariz,' a name 
chosen for the sake of the rhyming sound, to which an 
Asiatic will at any time sacrifice sense, whether in prose 
or verse : the meaning of it is ' Purification of Gold, in 
the description of Paris.' Before he left Paris, he al- 
lowed Mons. Caussin de Perceval to take extracts from 
his manuscript, and it is from that gentleman's notes 
that the following account is taken. The original work 
has been subsequently printed at the Arabic press of 
Boulaq, in Egypt. 

On his arrival at Marseilles, like all orientals, he is 
astonished to see women walk about without veils. He 
describes the chairs, tables, plates, knives and forks, and 
all the detail of European modes, so different to what he 
has been in the habit of seeing. The large looking- 
glasses caused m him almost as much surprise as might 
have been felt by a savage who had never before seen a 
mirror; and indeed the little glasses he had been accus- 
tomed to make use of in Egypt are so much surpassed in 
size and brilliance by those he saw in France, that he 
may well be pardoned for supposing that he saw another 
Egyptian approaching him the first time he looked into 
a full length mirror. 

One of the first things noticed by the Sheikh, on his 
arrival at Paris, is the fire : he says the Christians get 
near it, sit in a circle about it, and think they confer 
hopour on a guest by giving him the seat next the fire- 
place. He describes the river, its islands, and quays ; 
but he cannot help adding, " But oh how inferior is all 
this to the Nile, the isle of Raudha, and the Mekyas ; 
nothing can be compared to the charming prospect of 
Raudha ; and what a difference between the water of the 
Seine and that of the Nile." After this little effusion of 
patriotism, he points out many usages which might be 
advantageously introduced into Egypt, such as watering 
the streets and squares by means of water-carts, instead 
of doing it by hand as is done in Cairo : he also recom- 
mends the use of pipes to convey water to the different 
quarters of towns, instead of camels, as usual in Egypt. 
We may here remark that only a very few years ago 
the houses of Paris were supplied with water by means 
perhaps inferior to those used in Egypt; namely, by 
pails hke those carried by the London milkmen. 

Our author next describes the Parisians. " They 
are," he says, M distinguished among the Christians for 
their intelligence and sagacity. Even the common 
people know how to read and write : they reflect deeply 
on what they see, each according to his condition. They 
have made books on everything, even on such subjects 
as cookery. Their fashions are always varying ; none is 
permanent. Not that they totally change the nature of 
their costume ; they only make alterations in its form : 
thus they never leave the hat for the turban ; but they 
wear the hat sometimes of one shape, and sometimes of 
another. The most important personages walk rapidly 
in the streets, like simple individuals. In their societies 
men and women meet altogether in large rooms brilli- 
antly illuminated and furnished with seats. Women are 
treated with more respect than men, who do not sit 
down unless all the women are seated. They dance 
together, men as well as women ; but there is nothing 
wrong in this, for among the Christians dancing is only 
a sort of measured jumping, to which no evil attaches, 
and it is not considered improper to take a woman's 
hand," Here the utter seclusion of Mohammedan 

females must be rememliered ; and we must also ob- 
serve, that among Orientals generally, and particularly in 
Egypt, dancing is practised only by women of ill repute, 
hired for the occasion, and that their dances are very 
indecorous. The trouble of dancing would be sufficient 
to condemn it as a practice among the people of the 
east, who have no idea of taking exercise for its own 
sake. The question of a Turk of rank to a French 
ambassador at Constantinople may be remembered. 
His excellency had just finished a dance when the Turk 
said to him, " You are rich, why don't you pay a ser- 
vant to do this for you ?" The Sheikh is pretty tolerant 
of Christian modes ; but he blames the exposure of 
women unveiled to the gaze of men, and accuses them 
of coquetry ; admitting at the same time that Arab 
women also use arts to attract admiration, such as paint- 
ing their fingers red, and their eyelids and lips black. 

One chapter of the work is devoted to details of the 
public charities of Paris, concerning which he remarks 
that • the number of such institutions compensates for 
the want of individual charity. The Parisians are not 
charitable : they repulse the mendicant, and are of opi- 
nion that no one should beg ; if he can work, they say 
he does not want alms ; if he is unable, the houses of 
charity are open to him." The Orientals give alms 
much more frequently than Europeans. But the swarms 
of beggars, both of impostors and of the really indigent, 
which infest oriental towns, prove that the universal 
practice of alms- giving has not tended to diminish 
misery and imposition. 

The author afterwards describes the commercial esta- 
blishments of Paris ; the national and private banks, the 
insurance offices, the school of commerce, the public 
exhibition of manufactured produce, all are mentioned 
and commented on. The post-office, the canals, steam- 
boats, stage-coaches, and waggons, hackney coaches and 
omnibuses, are all mentioned with due praise. To such 
establishments, and to the activity and economy of 
Europeans, he very sensibly ascribes their opulence. 
" A minister in France," he remarks, " has no more 
than ten or a dozen servants, and may be seen walking 
in the streets unattended and undistinguished. Among 
the Mussulmans even a soldier has sometimes many 

The latter portion of the work is taken up with treat- 
ises on astronomy, geography, arithmetic, chemistry, 
medicine, &c, &c, as known and practised by Eu- 
ropeans. In astronomy the Sheikh is much puzzled to 
conciliate the motion and form of the earth with the 
words of the Koran. He says the opinion is heretical, 
and opposed to the holy books of the Christians as well 
as to those of the Mohammedans ; but that the Chris- 
tians support their opinions with so much learning, that it 
is very difficult to refute them, and their paradoxes ap- 
pear to be founded on reality. " Their learned works," 
he says, " are filled with such paradoxes. The Mussul- 
man who studies French books must stick closely to the 
Koran and the Traditions, or else he will be hable to 
seduction, and his faith will be shaken." With this 
caution he communicates to his countrymen a sort of 
compendium of general knowledge, which is calculated, 
by its lucid style and correctness, to be eminently useful 
to them. 

On his return to Egypt the Sheikh Refaa was ap- 
pointed director of a school established near Cairo, for 
geography, natural history, and mathematics, which is 
annexed to the medical and surgical college of Abuz- 
abel. He has since published several scientific treatises 
translated from the French into the Arabic language. 

• # # The Office of the Society for the Diffnaton of Useful Knowledge \m 
at 59, Lincoln's Inn Fielda. 

Printed by William Clown and Som, Stamford 8treec 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[January 13, 1838. 


[The Racoon.] 

The Racoon is a native of America, where it appears to 
h?e a wide ranee, being abundant in the northern divi- 
sion of that continent as high as the cold latitudes of the 
for country, and being found in the southern division 
l ™ i at least, if the animal described by Azara as a 
&»tive of Paraguay, under tbe title of * AgouarapopeV be 
toe same, as most naturalists regard it. Placed by Lin- 
L *us in the genus Ursus (under the tile of Ursus Lotor), 
tjfe Racoon has been separated as the representative of a 
distinct genus, namely Procyon *, established by Storr, 
^d adopted by modern naturalists. Like the Coati,t to 
*hich the Racoon is nearly related, this animal belongs 
to the Plantigrade section of the Carnivora, but though 
«* soles of the feet are naked, it is only while at rest 
"*. thev are fairly applied to the ground. While in 
jj^on the heel is raised, yet the gait of the Racoon is 
£*JJ and awkward ; its limbs are short and stout, its 
"<* i» arched, and the body is round, thick, and mas- 

* Upoffvw, from IIpo, before, and kww, a dog. 
t See Penny Mag., No. 306. 

Vol. VII. 

sive, with a marked fullness about the flanks adding to 
its breadth, and making the limbs seem shorter than 
they are in reality. Without suppleness or agility the 
Racoon exhibits a certain address in its actions, which 
harmonize with its cunning and prying physiognomy. 
The form and general expression of the head are deci- 
dedly fox-like, except that the ears are round and short, 
the eyes large, with circular pupils, and the muzzle 
abruptly acute, the nose extending beyond the jaws, but 
less so than in the Coatis, in which animals it is ad- 
vanced in the form of an elongated movable snout. The 
tongue is soft, the teeth consist of six incisors in each 
law, and two straight compressed canines ; there are 
three conical false molars on each side in the upper jaw, 
succeeded by three tuberculous true molars. In the 
lower jaw there are four false molars on each side, fol- 
lowed by a laniary and tuberculous molar. 

The toes are five on each foot, furnished underneath 
with thick tubercles ; the claws are long, sharp, power- 
ful, and fitted for digging ; on the palm both of the fore 
and hind feet there are five distinct elastic pads, or 


Digitized by 




^January 13, 

tubercles ; one at the base of the little toe, one at the 
origin of the thumb, one near the second toe, one at the 
base of the two larger toes, and one towards the wrist, or 

Though incapable of grasping objects with its paws, 
the Racoon can hold its food between them pressed toge- 
ther, in doing which it usually sits upon its haunches 
like a bear, and in this attitude it very often feeds. 
Azara indeed informs us that its Paraguay name, Agoti- 
arapope', alludes to the inflexibility of its paws, meaning 
" The fox with the stretched hand." " In fact," he 
adds, " the forefoot of this animal is very open, and has 
the toes much separated, so that they cannot be made to 
grasp, having a much greater depth than breadth ; never- 
theless it makes use of its two forefeet, but simultaneously, 
and without folding the toes, when it wishes to carry food 
to its mouth." The tail is long, full, and bushy. 

Of the senses of this animal, that of smell is the most 
developed, and is very acute : the eyes, though the pupil 
is round, are better adapted for twilight or night than 
for the glare of day ; indeed, a strong light distresses 
and confuses these animals exceedingly. In its natural 
state, in fact, the Racoon is nocturnal, and it is most 
probably from the circumstance of the eyes being inca- 
pable of sustaining day-light, that blindness from cata- 
ract (opacity of the lens) is *o common in these animals 
in a state of captivity, when they are liable to be roused 
up, and are often kept awake during the whole or 
greater part of the day. 

Buffon, in speaking of the localities tenanted by the Ra- 
coon, says, " This animal is originally from the southern 
regions of America ; it is not found in the Old World ; 
at least, travellers who have spoken of the animals of 
Africa and the East Indies, make no mention of it. It 
is, on the contrary, very common in the warm climates 
of America, and especially in Jamaica, where it inhabits 
the mountains, whence it descends to feed upon the 
sugar-canes. It is not found in Canada, nor iii the 
other northern portions of this continent ; nevertheless, it 
does not greatly fear the cold \ M. Klein brought up one 
at Dantzick, and that which we had has passed a whole 
night with its feet locked up in the ice without expe- 
riencing any ill effects." As respects the Racoon not 
inhabiting Canada, Buffon is most certainly wrong. It 
is even eaten in Canada, as we are positively informed by 
a gentleman who has seen it brought to the table. Dr. 
Richardson informs us that the Racoon " inhabits the 
southern parts of the fur districts, being found as far 
north as Red River, in lat. 50', from which quarter about 
one hundred skins are procured by the Hudson's Bay 
Company. If there is no mistake as to the identity of 
this species, the Racoon extends farther north on the 
shores of the Pacific than it does on, the eastern side of 
the Rocky Mountains. Dixon and Portlock obtained 
cloaks of Racoon skins from the natives of Cook's river, 
in lat. 60° ; and skins, supposed to be those of the 
Racoon, were also seen at Nootka Sound by Captain 
Cook. Lewis and Clarke expressly state that the 
Racoon, at the mouth of the Columbia, is the same with 
the animal so common in the United States." To this 
Dr. Richardson adds, " its flesh, when fed on vegetables, 
is reported to be good." 

Nocturnal in its habits, the Racoon sleeps in its 
retreat during the day, rolled up in the form of a ball, 
with the head placed between the thighs. As evening 
sets in it begins its prowl for food. Roots, succulent 
vegetable matters, insects, worms, birds, snd their eggs, 
constitute its diet. In search of the latter it climbs trees, 
ascending and descending with remarkable dexterity : it is 
said to kill birds like the polecat, first biting off the' head, 
and then sucking out the blood. Oyster? are among its 
favourite articles of diet ; and for the sake of obtaining 
them it frequents the swampy borders of the sea, places 
Which it prefers even to the woods, as is noticed by 

Azara, who contends that Buffon is in error in stating it 
to be an inhabitant of the mountains or elevated loca- 
lities. Of the fondness of the Racoon for oysters, and ot 
its dexterity in opening, the writer has been a wit- 
ness. Some years since he tried a tame Racoon with 
several of these " shell-fish," as they are popularly called, 
which it greedily devoured. Its first action was to crush 
the hinge of the shell between its teeth, which done, it 
wrenched the two valves so far asunder as to enable it to 
scrape out the mollusk with its claws. In the descrip- 
tion of a tame Racoon by M. Blanquart des Salines, we 
are informed "It opens oysters with wonderful skill ; it 
is sufficient to break the hinge, its paws co m ple te the 
work. It must have an excellent sense of touch. In 
this operation rarely does it avail itself of sight or smell ; 
for instance, it passes the oyster under its hind paws, then 
without looking seeks by its hands the weakest place ; 
it there digs in its claws, forces apart the valves, and 
tears out the fish in fragments, leaving nothing behind." 

The gait of the Racoon on the ground is oblique, and 
when it moves quickly its mode of progression consists 
of a series of bounds, reminding us of the movements of 
the Lemurs, but with nothing of their grace and light- 
ness. When taken young this animal is easily tamed, 
becomes playful, and is fond of being noticed and ca- 
ressed, but is at the same time very capricious and easily 
offended; and to some persons, without any apparent 
cause, it will show from the first marked signs of hosti- 
lity. When enraged or desirous of attacking a person, 
the Racoon advances, as we have often witnessed, with 
arched back and bristling hairs, and with its chin or 
under jaws close to the ground, uttering gruff sounds of 
displeasure. If once injured, it seldom forgives its enemy. 
M* Blanquart des Salines states that a servant had one 
day struck his racoon a few blows with a whip t " in vain 
did the man afterwards attempt a reconciliation, neither 
eg$s, nor food most coveted by the animal, availed in 
pacifying it. At his approach it enters into a sort of fury ; 
with sparkling eyes it darts at him, and utters loud cries 
of suffering. Whatever is presented to it at that time, it 
refuses until its enemy has disappeared. Its accents of 
anger are very singular ; sometimes one might fancy them 
the whistling of the curlew, at others the hoarse bark of 
an old dog. If any one beats it, or if it is attacked by 
an animal which it thinks stronger than itself, it opposes 
no resistance ; like a hedgehog, it conceals its head and 
its paWB, and forms its body into a ball : no cry escapes 
it, and in this position it would suffer death." With 
much caprice there is no little cunning in the character 
of the Racoon, mixed with malice and a fondness for de- 
struction. The writer above quoted informs us that the 
chain of his Racoon is sometimes broken, " and that liberty 
readers it insolent ; it takes possession of a room, and 
will suffer no one to come near it; it is not without diffi- 
culty that it can be refettered. Since it has lived with 
me, its slavery has frequently been suspended. Without 
losing sight of it, I often allow it to walk with its chain, 
and every time a thousand little gambols express to me 
its gratitude. It is quite the contrary, however, when it 
escapes itself; it then rambles sometimes for three or 
four days together over the neighbouring roofs, and de- 
scends at night into the court-yards, enters the poultry 
roosts, strangles the fowls and eats their heads, attacking 
more especially the Guinea fowls. Its chain did not 
render it more gentle, but only more circumspect : it then 
employed artifice, and familiarized the poultry witn it, 
permitting them to come and partake of its repast ; un<* 
it was only after having inspired them with the greatest 
security, that it would seize a, fowl and tear it to pieces. 
Some young cats have experienced from it the same sort 
of treatment." 

The Racoon, as we have observed it in captivity, Wh erv 
fully roused is restless, inquisitive, and prying. It clirr*b s 
with the greatest skill, in the same manner as a bear, ^^^ 

Digitized by 





cendlng and descending a pole or stout branches fastened 
in its apartment, with the utmost freedom. All kinds of 
food are acceptable, and it is apt to become loaded with 
fat, which adds to its rotundity of contour. A great por- 
tion of the day, and chiefly the morning part, is passed 
in sleep, but not always so, for it is often restless all day, 
and full of animation. It is not however in captivity 
that we can judge of the natural habits of animals, — there 
is in such a condition no room for their exercise ; their 
instincts have no stimulus to call them forth, — monotony 
oppresses their physical and mental nature, and leads to 
habits never acquired in a state of wild independence. 

In size the Racoon is somewhat larger than a badger ; 
its fur is of two kinds, a soft full under-coat, and an 
upper vest of long and rather coarse hairs. The general 
colour is dusky grey, the tint arising from each long hair 
being annulated with white and tipped with black. The 
face, cheeks, and throat, are white, with an oblique black 
dash across the face and surrounding the eyes : the tail 
has four or five dusky black rings ; length about two 
feet, of which the tail is eight or nine inches. 


[From % Correspondent.] 

As in your * Looking-Glass for London' a very brief 
sketch has been given of a few of its leading manufac* 
turas, I have thought the following more general descrip- 
tion may not be unacceptable to the readers of the 
4 Penny Magazine.' I do not pretend to assert that my 
account embraces near the whole of the multifarious ma- 
nufactures of this immense metropolis, yet I believe it 
will be found tolerably correct. 

Although it cannot be said that London is strictly a 
manufacturing city, yet its productions are both extensive 
and various. In fact there is scarcely any branch of our 
national arts or manufactures (the cotton and woollen 
cloth trades alone excepted) which is not more or less 
carried on in London or its immediate , vicinity, whilst in 
&>me particular trades it is the principal mart and enjoys 
an almost exclusive manufacture. As the silk trade of 
Spitalfields, the breweries, and the manufactures of the 
Borough (including Bermondsey) have been already 
described, I shall commence with the large and popu- 
lous parish of Clerkenwell, which is the principal seat of 
the clock and watch trades. Here in close compact are 
congregated workmen in all the various ramifications of 
those important businesses, movement makers, case- 
makers, engravers, cnamellers, finishers, &c. Clerken- 
well also abounds in jewellers, gold and silversmiths, 
and japanners. Next, the east end or port of London 
teems with all the various arts and manufactures con- 
nected with its shipping trade or commerce. Ship-build- 
ing, extensive cooperages, saw-mills, iron-foundries, iron 
chain-cable and anchor works, ropeyards, millwrights, 
engineers, &c., many of these works on a scale of gigantic 
magnitude. The London distilleries are probably un- 
equalled in this or any other country. In Long Acre 
and its tributary streets and lanes lies the great mart for 
carriage and coach building, although many makers may 
be found dispersed nearly all over London. Independ- 
ently of the trades already enumerated, the metropolis 
abounds with cabinet-makers and upholsterers, brass- 
fuunders and finishers, copper-smiths, tin-plate workers, 
iron-founders and smiths of every description; carvers, 
gilders, gold-beaters, glass- workers, lamp- makers, paper- 
stainers, and musical instrument makers. In piano-forte 
making one house alone is known to employ from 500 to 
600 workmen. Add to these gun and military accoutre- 
ment makers, thousands of tailors, shoemakers, printers, 
and bookbinders ; and again the host of artisans connected 
*ith the building trade, carpenters, joiners, bricklayers, 
masons, plasterers, house-smiths, painters, plumpers, 

glaziers, labourers, &c. Lastly, if I may be permitted to in- 
clude the gentlemen connected with the fine arts, painters, 
engravers, sculptors, architects, and surveyors ; there will 
be found concentrated within a circle of six miles in 
diameter, (taking St. Paul's as the centre,) a mass of in- 
telligent skill, active enterprise, and productive labour, 
such as was never before collected on one spot on the face 
of the habitable globe. 

It appears to me, from the best calculation I have been 
able to make, that a sum of at least 200,000/. is weekly 
paid in the metropolis for labour alone, without including 
the amount paid to porters, draymen, and servants of 
every description. Some of the trades here enumerated 
are supplied with articles from the principal country 
manufacturing districts in the crude or unfinished state, 
on account of the lower price of labour and the cheap- 
ness of coal in these districts. Amongst them may be 
mentioned, watch-springs and movements from Lanca- 
shire, forged cutlery and saw-plates from Sheffield, coach- 
springs, gun-locks and gun-barrels from Staffordshire, 
&c, which receive their finish from the London manufac- 
turer. Workmen's wages, generally speaking, may be 
stated at full 25 per cent, lugher iu and about London 
than in the distant parts of the country. This circum- 
stance draws a number of artisans of every class to Lon- 
don, others are drawn to Town (as it is emphatically 
called) by the hope of employment or of improving them- 
selves in their different mechanical pursuits ; some return 
again after a time, but many remain and settle permanently, 
so that the operative labour is continually increasing. 

The art of educating requires skill in fostering a love of 
mental activity and a desire of knowledge. The Self-In- 
stnictor must obey the impulse of the desire already formed. 
Under guidance of a tutor we may have the advantage of 
commencing no study till we are versed in introductory 
subjects sufficiently to prevent our being discouraged by 
insurmountable obstacles. When teaching ourselves, we are 
of i en impelled to plunge at once into matters which we 
afterwards find require us to enter upon the study of ele- 
mentary truths, and which sometimes present difficulties 
that compel us to abandon, or at least postpone for a time, 
the object of our investigation. The real friend to the 
intellectual progress of his fellow-men will be careful to 
bear in mind this difference, as a guard against any dispo- 
sition to discourage the premature efforts of autodidactic 
students, and still more against the injustice of sneering at 
an apparent fickleness. An eminent linguist and biblical 
scholar yet living conferred on the author, in his boyhood, 
an invaluable obligation, by encouraging him to disdain the 
difficulties by which classical studies have been encumbered. 
By saying, " Two rules, Begin, and Keep on, will be suf- 
ficient to enable you to learn any language, " did he, whose 
reputation, then extensive, has since procured the well- 
earned honours of learning, cheer the drooping spirits of a 
young stranger. With much delight did the author later 
in life recognise, in his unknown benefactor, the Cambridge 
Professor of Arabic, the Rev. S. Lee.— Rev. J. Hambleton's 
Lecture on Self- Instruction, 

Going to bed in India.— The process of getting into bed 
in India is one requiring great dexterity, and not a little 
scientific engineering. As the curtains are carefully tucked 
in close under the mattress all round, you must decide at 
what part of the bed you choose to make your entry. 
Having surveyed the ground, and clearly made up your 
mind on this point, you take in your right hand a kind of 
brush, or switch, generally made of a horse's tail ; or if you 
be tolerably expert, a towel may answer the purpose, with 
your left hand you then seize that part of the skirt of the 
curtain which is thrust under the bedding at the place you 
intend to enter, and by the light of the oocoa-nut oil lamp 
(which burns on the floor of every bedroom in Hindostan), 
you first drive away the mosquitoes from your immediate 
neighbourhood, by whisking round your horsetail. You 
next promptly form an opening, not a hair's breadth larger 
than your own person, into which you leap, like harlequin 
through a hoop ; with all the speed of intense fear, you close 
up the gap through which you have shot yourself into 
your sleeping quarters. — HalN Fragment*. 

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[January 13, 


[Roman Amphitheatre at El-gem.] 

(Exfiactsfrom the Diary of the Rev C. F. Ewald. Continued 
from p. 493 of the preceding Volume.) 

Sfax. — Along the shores of the Mediterranean there 
is probably no town of which the situation i9 so fine, or 
the environs so beautiful as Sfax. Its lofty walls rise 
immediately from the sea ; they enclose 1 200 large, and 
2400 smaller buildings ; and if we compute according 
to this number of houses, and the multitudes which 
throng the streets, we may estimate the Mahometan 
population at ten or twelve thousand. Sfax is well 
fortified, and the walls are defended by cannon, but I 
could never perceive any garrison. The castle is inha- 
bited by an Aga and a few soldiers, who are here called 
Suavi, and are still habited in the old Turkish costume, 
while those in Tunis, and other places have been re-or- 
ganized more than six years ago, according to the 
European system of military dress and manoeuvres, and 
are called Nazam. 

• The harbour might easily be restored at a trifling 
expense ; it is now so choaked with mud and brushwood 
that only small vessels are able to come up to the town ; 
those of large draught being obliged to cast anchor two 
miles from the town. The streets are good, sometimes 
paved, and the houses, which present a fine appearance, 
are kept in excellent repair. With these recommenda- 
tions it would be a pleasure to walk about the town, were 
it not, as throughout the whole of Barbary, loaded with 
filth and rubbish of every description, and it has become 
a matter almost of necessity with the Mohammedans on the 
north coast of Africa to see their streets in this condition. 
It does not contain any remarkable buildings — there is one 
very large mosque belonging to the Malakian sect. In 
no other place have I met with so many places of refuge 
for criminals— and this privilege is confined not merely 
to various chapels of saints, but whole districts, which 
have been given to the chapels, enjoy similar rights 
of sanctuary. As soon as an offender has reached one of 
these districts he is quite secure. 

Sfax has some large and rich markets where inland 
productions and European manufactures are sold ; they 
are particularly frequented by caravans from Gadamas 

for the purpose of disposing of the various produce which 
they bring from the interior of Africa, such as gold-dust, 
ivory, senna-leaves, ostrich-feathers, slaves, &c. Their 
purchases consist of glass beads, looking-glasses, knives, 
scissors, paper, &c. The merchants of Gadamas have 
the peculiar custom of not delivering their goods, gold- 
dust, for example, till the value has been paid down to 
them in silver, as they will not take gold coin. 

It is remarkable that none but Sfaxias, or natives, are 
allowed to live in the town. No stranger, not even an 
Arabian or Bedouin, may possess a house within the juris- 
diction of the town. Persons from Tunis, Tripoli, or 
any other Mohammedan town who wish to settle here, are 
obliged to erect their dwellings out of the town. The 
inhabitants of Sfax are all without any exception wealthy, 
there is no such thing as a poor Sfaxia. Every one has 
a fine country-house and garden out of the town, where 
he passes the six fine months of the year with the whole 
of his family ; and it is an extremely interesting sight to 
repair to the gates in the cool of the evening at this 
season of the year. Groups of persons of all ages are 
seen hastening to the beautiful gardens which commence 
about a quarter of a league from the town, and form a 
crescent, which, in its longest diameter, measures 12 
miles, in which space are 6000 gardens. The fertility 
of the soil is extraordinary ; apples, pears, grapes, figs* 
pomegranates, apricots, peaches, almonds, citrons, plums, 
mulberries, and various other fruits of a southern climate 
flourish in the gardens of Sfax. Very little attention is 
paid to the cultivation of vegetables, to which the Moors 
are not partial — the potatoe is not known along the 
whole coast of North Africa, which obliges the Europeans 
to receive their supplies from Malta. ( Cucumbers and 
onions are grown in great abundance ; corn, particularly 
rye and barley, is much cultivated, also peas and lentils, 
which are larger, and the latter redder than those of 
Europe. The breed of cattle are on the whole good, 
though inferior to the European ; sheep, both the com- 
mon and long-tailed, are met with in immense flocks ; 
also horses, camels, and mules. Game of every descrip- 
tion abounds here; beasts of prey have disappeared, 
though they are said to be still found in the interior of 

Digitized by 





the country. As the chase is free to all, it forms one of 
the greatest amusements of the Europeans settled here ; 
they are often absent for weeks together on the chase, and 
return richly laden with booty. The people of Sfax are 
very fond of fishing ; for there is an abundance of fish 
on the coast, and they are caught by a very simple me- 
thod. Twigs and oziers are woven together, and being 
fixed a certain distance in the sea, a net is fastened at one 
end. As soon as the animal finds itself impeded by the 
wicker-work, it endeavours to find an open outlet, there- 
fore swims forward and hastes towards the net. In this 
way the net is filled twice a-day in general. 

In the harvest season, the barley and rye ripen simul- 
taneously. Each person conveys his sheaves in front of 
the town-gate, where a large open space is reserved for 
the purpose ; he here selects a particular spot for his 
sheaves, and piles them up upon one another in propor- 
tion as he brings them in from his ground. As soon as 
all have finished their operations and completed thejf 
heap, the Kaid of the town makes his appearance and 
sets a value on each heap ; crying out, This heap has to 
give one hundred measures ! — yonder five hundred !— and 
so forth. No one is allowed to appeal against the officer's 
valuation. It is the quantum of tythe payable to the lord 
of the land. The people set about threshing the grain 
out immediately afterwards, and the method they use is 
the threshing-carriages of ancient times. These carriages 
are constructed low for barley, and furnished with four 
rollers, every roller having six or eight iron shears : the 
oxen are now yoked on and the driver takes his seat. 
The sheaves have been previously disposed in a circle ; 
the carriage is driven over them until the whole are 
beaten and bruised as short and small as possible. The 
instrument employed for threshing out the rye is a some- 
what thick board, four feet long and two broad. Pieces 
of iron and flint are driven into the board itself. An ox 
ir ass is roped to it, and the driver, standing upon the 
board, sets about his task and bruises the sheaves. By 
these simple appliances a large quantity of grain is threshed 
in a very short space of time. In order to cleanse it from 
the chaff, people are constantly at work stirring the beaten 
grain about with long forks, during which operation the 
wind blows the chaff away and the seed falls to the ground. 
The grain is then put into sacks, laid on camels' backs, 
and carried to the granary, which usually lies under- 
ground. The straw is collected carefully, and borne to the 
place of its deposit by the same most useful animal. Less 
than ten days are sufficient to gather in the harvest and 
&resh the crops out. Whilst watching these operations, 
1 had before me a new and perfect comment on Holy 
Scripture : — u Thus saith the Lord ; For three transgres- 
sions of Damascus, and for four, I will not turn away the 
punishment thereof; because they have threshed Gilead 
*ith threshing instruments of iron." (Amos, i. 3.) 
u Arise and thresh, O daughter of Zion ; for I will make 
thine horn iron ;" &c (Micah, iv. 13.) " And Ephraim 
i? as an heifer that is taught, and loveth to tread out the 
com," (Hosea, x. 11); and many other similar passages. 
When I told the work-people how corn was threshed in 
Europe, they were much astonished, and observed, that 
the Europeans could not grow much corn, inasmuch as 
dfey chose so toilsome a mode of threshing. 

There are about two hundred Jewish families in Sfax, 
consisting of about two thousand persons. They reside 
>Q a suburb of their own, which is separated from the 
°&er narts of the town by a wall and gate. Like their 
other brethren on the coast of Northern Africa, they are 
kcupied in mechanical and trading pursuits. They have 
two large synagogues, where they say their prayers, teach 
their children, and study the Talmud. I met with but very 
few rich Jews in the place : most of them gaining just as 
touch as suffices to provide them with the necessaries of 
We. The whole Jewish population do not pay more than 
*$uty piastres a-yeor to the sovereign. It is remarkable, 

that the Jews of Tunis, Tripoli, and Algiers are pecu- 
liarly distinguished by the covering of their heads. The 
Algerine Jew binds a black silk cloth round it; the 
Tunisian wears a black turban; and the Tripolitan a silk 
parti-coloured turban. The wives of the Tripolitan Jews 
bind a ribbon round their brows, from which pieces of 
money are pendant ; the size and number of the latter 
being indicative of their husbands' circumstances in life ; 
nay, the woman in this way frequently displays the whole 
pecuniarj substance of her lord on her brow. 

No Christians lived here until within the last ten years : 
but now, besides an English consul, who came here four 
years ago, there are a French and a Sardinian consul. 
There is a host of Maltese, who spread in all directions 
like weeds, and bring contempt and disgrace on the very 
name of Christians. All the Christians are compelled to 
reside in the Jewish quarter, with the sole exception of 
the English agent, who is allowed to live in the town as a 
special mark of favour. The Europeans have all of them 
risen to affluence in a short time. Some, I know, who 
were not owners of a single piastre four years ago, and 
have acquired property enough to live at their ease in 
any town of Europe. The whole of the Christians in 
the place took, however, a lively interest in the object of 
my mission, and aided me on every occasion, although 
there was but one of them who did not belong to the 
Roman Catholic persuasion. They were very glad to 
accept of Bibles. 

The Mohammedans of Sfax are accounted a very learned 
race, and I had several conversations with them, as well 
as gave them no small number of publications in Arabic. 
I did not succeed, however, in discovering wherein their 
boasted learning consisted. One of their sages, who 
passed for an uncommonly well read person, observed to 
me, when we were discoursing on astronomy, that " there 
are Seven Heavens, one raised above another. Each of 
these heavens has its own sun, and these seven suns are 
what the Christians erroneously conceive to be seven 
planets. Above the seventh heaven lies God's seat, and 
above this his bed." He thrust in the latter, upon my 
observing to him, that there were eleven planets. 

The heat in the harvest season is intense, and I am 
told will become more so as I draw towards the south. 
Sometimes the thermometer stands at 28° Reaumur 
95° Fahrenheit) ; but the air is somewhat freshened by 
the proximity of the sea. There is one thing, how- 
ever, more to be dreaded than the heat ; and this is, the 
scorpions, who seem to have chosen Sfax for their hoiue 
and home. The greatest danger to be apprehended from 
them is during the months of July and August. Yester- 
day a child, who was playing in an adjacent garden, was 
stung by one of them and died in a few hours. But they 
do not attack persons when asleep, or lying motionless ; 
as soon as they move, however, the insect instantly stings 
them. The best remedy is immediately to cut away the 
wounded part with a razor, and rub oil into it for some- 
time afterwards. The pain is said to cease within the 
next twenty-four hours ; and then no dangerous effects 
are to be feared. 

El-gem, the Tisdras or Tysdrus of the antients, contains 
the nuns of an amphitheatre, said to be one of the finest 
specimens of Roman art and luxury, and was built by Gor- 
dianus, who was proclaimed emperor in its vicinity. It 
consisted formerly of four successive rows of columns, and 
sixty-four arcades. The upper tier is now nearly fallen 
down, the lower ones are in good preservation. From the 
basis to the commencement of the fourth gallery are 90 feet, 
and if we leckon the height of the columns at 15 feet, the 
elevation of the whole must have been 105 feet. The 
inner area is 300 feet in length and 200 in breadth ; 
in the centre is a well, now however quite choaked up. 
The ruins of this amphitheatre retain all the fresh ap- 
pearance of a recent erection. About a century ago one 
of the Beys blew up four of the arcades because the 

Digitized by 




[January 13* 

Arabs had taken refuge within it during an insurrection 
and defended themselves with great bravery. The width 
of these arcades is 105 feet and the whole circum- 
ference of the building is about 1570. In a corner of 
the amphitheatre lies the statue of a Venus which has lost 
its head ; on the building itself are the head of a Ram 
and of a Man. The contrast between this gigantic struc- 
ture and the wretched Arabian huts around cannot be 
described. I never beheld more miserable huts or more 
destitute Bedouins. The environs abound in fragments 
of marble columns, buildings, cisterns, &c. The town 
was about a quarter of a league distant, and still contains 
numerous ruins. I remarked a marble statue of gigantic 
size, but as the fanaticism of the Arabs destroys every 
object of art, the head was broken off. 

[Our view of this Amphitheatre, given at p. 1 2, is taken 
from a print in the part already published of Mr. EwaldV 


[Fromf Correspondent.] 

The nurture of the silk-worm and the preparatory 
manufacture of its product form a material part of the 
annual employment of female peasants in the northern 
provinces of Italy. While husbands, sons, and brothers 
are toiling in the parching sunshine to win their scanty 
maintenance, the elder women in the darkened bigattiere 
or feeding-houses, tend the ripening worm under the 
occasional supervision of the farm bailiff, and the younger 
wives and daughters in the filanda or factory make the 
the fragile insects' labour available to human luxury. 

The whole course of existence of this apparently 
insignificant but really important creature, from the 
moment of chipping its diminutive egg-shell, through the 
gradations of worm and chrysalis, to its final develop- 
ment and death* as a mealy-winged moth, has been 
already fully traced in former numbers of the ' Penny 
Magazine.'* The present memoranda date from the ani- 
mal's destruction in its third stage of pupa or chrysalis ; 
m other words, the conversion of its envelop or cocoon 
into silk. 

The mode of effecting this is essentially the same all 
over Italy ; some differences however of climate, culture, 
and spinning produce the varieties of silk known by 
several provincial names in the London market. The 
nomenclature, as affording little information to a reader 
uninitiated in that particular branch of commerce, may 
be passed over with this remark, that it is rather indica- 
tive of the abode of the exporter, than of its quality or 
place of production, such as Milan, Bergamo, Modena, 
&c, which, though only names of towns, comprise each 
a wide extent of supply. The following observations 
apply more particularly to the silk termed ' Milan,' 
though produced in Brianza, a hilly province, distant 
about twenty miles from that city, and forming the gra- 
dation between the plains of Lombardy and the Alpine 
barriers of Switzerland. It was here that, domesticated 
for some months with an agricultural family, the writer 
had ample opportunity of noting every part of the process 
of fabrication. 

The route from Milan to Brianza lies through an 
expanse of fertility and flatness. Starting by daybreak 
the major part of our drive was over before the heat had 
become oppressive : after pausing at a village where rows 
of greasy booths proclaimed that a fair was holding for 
cheese and oil, we resumed our journey, and about four 
o'clock reached our destination in the village of Besana. 
Here, on entering the saloon or living-room of our enter- 
tainer, we found ourselves plunged at once into the full 
activity of the filature. At a long table heaped up with 
cocoons, sat several barefooted women and full grown 
girls assorting them,* and tearing from each the loose fila- 

* See Nos. 47, 191, 215, and 292. 

ments thrown out by the worm fts a foundation for hit 
nest ; this substance, when carded, forms what is called 
spun silk, formerly much used in England for shawls 
and hosiery, but now, I believe, more largely consumed 
for those hats known under the name of " gossamer," 
which from their economy and appearance have nearly 
superseded beaver among the middling and working 
population of London. The dovpioni or cocoons jointly 
produced by two worms, (the ill-shaped or otherwise de- 
fective being all thrown aside,) the perfect ones, forming 
the greatest part, are then ready to undergo the processes 
of killing and spinning. - 

The first is accomplished by exposing the imprisoned 
grub for a sufficient time to confined steam of a high 
temperature, or to the dry heat of an oven. The necessity 
for doing this is obvious, for as the cocoons when in 
quantity must be laid up in store to await their turn of 
spinning, were it omitted, the conversion of the chry- 
salis to a moth would take place, and the silk be de- 
stroyed by its emerging, which it does by ejecting a 
highly corrosive liquid that instantly dissolves its bonds 
sufficiently to allow its passage through them without 

The spinning is generally carried on 'out of doors, in 
a large yard furnished with piazzas on one or more sides. 
Beneath these are erected ranges of low brick furnaces, 
each containing on the top, near one edge, an open 
shallow oval copper, and having secured to it, by the 
bungling application of the weight of a large block of 
granite, a rudely-formed yet most effective wooden reel. 
Wood fires are lighted in the furnaces, the water in the 
coppers is brought to nearly boiling heat, and the spinner 
teats herself with her left side against the furnace, 
twisting herself round towards the copper ; she is pro- 
tected from the scorching brick-work by a thick wooden 
guard ; before her is the reel in charge of an assistant, 
who thus serves her apprenticeship, with occasional 
snatches of practice, to the art of spinning, which ia of 
course the most important part. Other assistants, male 
and female, attend to the fires, bring water, &c. From 
a basket on her left hand, the spinner casts several hand- 
fuls of cocoons into the boiling water, and agitates 
them with a small whisk, until the ends attach them- 
selves to it, and she is enabled to select the requisite 
number of fine filaments, varying from three to five, 
wherewith she forms her thread : these are thrust alto- 
gether through a hole in a flat thin bar of iron running 
the whole width of the reel, at about six inches above the 
copper: there are four equidistant holes in the iron, 
each one of which is filled in the same manner ; the two 
left-hand parcels are now pulled through the holes by 
the assistant, twisted together, then again separated, and 
each thread passed over one of four wire hooks fixed 
at distances corresponding to the holes in the iron, in a 
piece of wood parallel to it and to the axis of the reel, 
then the threads are attached to the reel : the same is 
done with the two right-hand parcels. The assistant 
makes the reel revolve with a velocity that appears more 
the result of strong mechanical appliance than of the 
turning of a simple winch by hand : the threads wind 
rapidly off from the softened cocoons, and passing 
through the twisted crossings, are there combined, 
twisted, compressed, and partially dried ere they reach 
the reel, whereon they gradually form four thick skeins. 
A reciprocating motion is given by a simple contrivance 
to the wooden rod with the hooks, which disposes the 
threads in a reticulated position on the reel, and facili- 
tates the subsequent unwinding. The coppers are kept 
just below boiling by occasionally dashing in cold water 
from a basin conveniently placed. As the cocoons are 
exhausted, fresh ones are added ; and herein lies the 
mystery and difficulty of the art : the beauty of the silk 
depending greatly on its evenness of size, the point is to 
keep the same number of cocoons always running to- 

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gether ; but as the moisture renders the delicate filaments 
gluey, it sticks with some tenacity to the spinner's finger, 
and it is only by a peculiar and practised sleight that it 
can bt jerked off and transferred to the running thread, 
an operation that an unexperienced hand finds it nearly 
impossible to perform. . 

This labour is continued from morning until noon, 
when the skeins being loosened and pulled half round on 
the reels, these are detached from the machinery and 
with the silk on them, set to dry in the shade. The 
women then take their scanty meal of heavy yellow maize 
bread, thin vegetable soup, and thinner wine. This 
ended, labour recommences, but with a change of hands ; 
the tyro assistants take their places at the coppers, and 
for a very short time attempt to make silk, while the 
spinners turn the reels and give verbal instructions in the 
art. Awkwardness generally prevails in various degrees ; 
every failure calls forth the ridicule of the more expe- 
rienced, and laughter and noise prevail. This soon ends 
however, for the pupils are deposed from the seat of 
dignity and return to the wheels, when matters proceed 
as before, with occasional cessations, and about sunset the 
day's work ceases. 

Silk-making being confined to particular portions of 
the year, it does not, like the manufactures of England, 
form the sole occupation of those engaged in it. It 
divides their time with agricultural pursuits, and its ap- 
pliances share the premises with farming operations. A 
fctout hind may be threshing out or dressing wheat, while 
another is splitting wood or drawing water for the filanda, 
and fowls are feeding from the putrifying heaps of chry- 
salides thrown out by the workmen. Many of these 
wretched birds get mutilated in their feet by entangling 
themselves with the silk that is mixed with their food : 
after some ineffectual struggles to break their bonds, the 
fine wiry filaments work into the joints and gradually 
amputate from one or more toes to the whole foot, as 
ihe case may be It is really melancholy to see them 
h 'typing, hobbling, and staggering about on their stumps. 
Then* eggs and flesh are strongly tainted by the dear- 
earned offal they devour, and are never consumed on the 
farm where produced, but sent to distant markets to be 
devoured by unwary purchasers. 

Such of the girls and women as come from a distance 
are provided with beds. Their sleeping apartment at 
oar factory presented a curious specimen of accommoda- 
tion. A dark windowless room, of about fifteen feet 
square, contained not less than ten beds, or rather ten 
shapeless heaps of litter, strown down side by side on an 
earthern floor, as far from equality in its surface as a 
country cross-road. Previously to retiring to their rest* 
a portion of the spare time was given to a devotional pro- 
cession to the burial-ground, where a hymn was chanted 
in chorus to the repose of the spirits of the dead ; then 
hack to the factory-yard to romp, to gossip, or to sing. 
Their vocal performances mostly consisted of extempo- 
raneous poetical attacks on each other's personal defects 
or peculiarities, which were frequently met by repartees 
not devoid of native wit and piquancy. Each doggrel 
couplet is sung with a burthen of " Too-roo-too-tela, 
Too-roo-too-ta," which gives a strange monotonous cha- 
racter to the whole performance. 

Cheerfulness and good temper, rather than beauty, are 
the characteristics ot these females, and, indeed, of the 
peasantry of Brianza in general. The men, though 
robust, are short and rough-featured; the women, for 
the most part, small, flat, square-shouldered figures, with 
dark sharp-pointed visages, animated, it is true, with the 
speaking eye of Italy. Their throats are frequently 
swelled and disfigured by full-grown or incipient goitres, 
there termed aozzo, and known here under the name of 
the " Derbyshire neck." These excrescences or tumours 
infest the human system in most mountainous or stony 
districts of Europe,- in Savoy, in Lombardy, in England. 

They are vulgarly supposed the result 6f drinking snow- 
water, but more rationally attributed to the use of water 
holding in solution large quantities of stony matter. 
Whatever the cause, it is a fact, that during my stay in 
Brianza I do not recollect an instance of the complaint 
among any but the poorer classes. I should infer hence 
that hardships and low living have some share in pro- 
ducing the deformity. 

By making use of a small reel of the construction 
attempted to be described, and provided with a water- 
pan and lamp, silk of our English growth may be so 
spun as to bear competition with some of the middling 
qualities produced in Italy ; and my own observations 
convince me that the worms might be here fed and 
reared with entire success and sufficient economy, despite 
the peculiarities of our climate, provided it were desirable 
to aid the supply of our manufactures by producing a 
part of the raw material at home. This, of course, it 
would not be. We can buy silk cheaper and better from 
countries whose climate is more favourable to its growth, 
and whose labour is paid at a lower rate. 


The present times are, without doubt, distinguished for 
the diffusion of knowledge amongst all ranks of the 
people. Whatever may be the advantages which we 
are already reaping from the progress of enlightenment, 
it is not to be expected that so great a change should be 
altogether free from the inconveniences and evilB which 
seem necessarily to attend all changes. The consistent 
upholder of things as they are, to the exclusion of all 
alteration, is wont to enumerate evils arising from the 
increasing spread of knowledge, sufficient in his estima- 
tion far to overbalance all its advantages. It is the part 
of the prudent and judicious advocate of improvement 
seriously to consider such inconveniences as may arise, 
and carefully to provide for their mitigation at least, if 
they do not admit of prevention. Of the numerous evils 
alleged as consequences of modern attempts to spread 
abroad those stores of information hitherto appropriated 
by the few, one of the most serious, and best worthy of con- 
sideration, appears to us to be the supposed superficial 
character of modern, as contrasted with antient know- 
ledge. In our desire to extend our acquaintance with 
science in all its departments, we are said to leave them 
all incomplete, thoroughly mastering none : as the stream 
of knowledge is diffused, it is maintained that it oses its 

In considering this subject, we think it desirable to 
keep in view the principle, that there are two objects to 
be pursued in relation to the cultivation of knowledge : — 
the diffusion, as widely as possible, of the stores of infor- 
mation already amassed; and the acquisition of still 
further stores, by the diligent working of the veins already 
opened, and the ardent search after the yet hidden trea- 
sures of science. Each of these objects is good and 
great : the one concerns all men, of whatever station or 
capacity ; for general information is now expected from 
all : the other more directly interests the few whose 
talents and leisure seem to point them out for the 
honoured instruments of the advancement of science, 
though, as will be shown, the many may lend an humble 
but effectual aid to the great work. Is there then any 
natural or necessary incompatibility between these two 
objects ? 

The diffusion of knowledge requires the popularizing 
of previously established principles; the exhibiting of 
information in easy and attractive forms. This process 
demands a peculiar kind of talent, very distinct from 
that of the original discoverer of truth ; and this popu* 
larizing ability the present times have supplied to an 
unprecedented extent. The great mass of moderr* lite- 

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[January 13, 1838. 

rature consists of the exhibition, in a popular form, of 
previously established facts and principles. The wide 
diffusion of these stores evidently does not dimmish their 
amount : how does it affect their probable increase ? It 
seems natural to suppose that the wide cultivation of in- 
tellectual tastes, and the encouragement of scientific 
pursuits, will excite in numberless minds those faculties 
of observation and reflection from which we must look 
for new discoveries, and the carrying forward of the im- 
perfect theories of former students. Thus the diffusion 
of knowledge tends to deepen the stream, not to make it 

We would not however close our eyes to a danger 
which besets the uninformed, particularly the young, 
in the swarms of attractive introductions to literature, 
science, and art, and the numerous pleasing miscellanies 
which teem from the press for their particular benefit. 
From the frequent use of these, the child of quick parts 
and inquiring disposition very early acquires a store of 
superficial information which dazzles the ignorant, and 
by the consequent praises of the injudicious, puffs up the 
young philosopher with a very unphilosophic conceit. 
We have frequently been highly amused with children 
of the present generation whose tongues have been so 
early accustomed to the hard words of science, that the 
-ologiesj'-alogies, and -atics, have been as familiar as the 
names of their toys or their play-fellowB, and who have 
astonished their grandmothers with expositions of scien- 
tific principles which, in their generation, were the puz- 
zles of the learned. The little people naturally fancy 
they have mastered sciences which their elders never 
thought of acquiring. Never, perhaps, was it easier to 
find the verification of Young's sarcastic lines — 

* When young indeed, 
In full content we sometimes nobly rest, 
Unanxious for ourselves ; and only wish, 
As duteous sons* our fathers were more wise." 

In young children, however, we are incliued to look 
upon this conceit as a very venial fault. It may be 
regarded as the symptom, though in an unhealthy degree, 
of a love of distinction, which by judicious treatment may 
render him who exhibits it useful and eminent in the 
pursuit of knowledge. Nor is there any fault more easily, 
more naturally, and necessarily cured by the advance of 
time. It is engendered in the narrow sphere of early 
life : as the circle enlarges the young aspirant is brought 
into contact with others of his own age, his equals or 
superiors in knowledge, and he is speedily taught his 
proper standing, and learns to correct his false estimate 
of his own ability by the less favourable view of his 

In the case of the uninformed of riper years, the vanity 
arising from the sudden acquisition of superficial know- 
ledge, is perhaps a more serious evil, and far more diffi- 
cult to counteract. Yet, in persons of all ages, there can 
be no doubt which character to prefer, — that of the in- 
quirer with his mind awakened to the charms of know- 
ledge, though his attainments be superficial, and his 
heart elated with vanity — or that of the hopelessly igno- 
rant, walking blindfold through creation, heedless of the 
wonders by which he is surrounded. If in the attempt 
to substitute knowledge for ignorance throughout the 
mass of mankind we encounter such evils, creating here 
and there faults akin to virtues, this is no solid ground of 
discouragement, especially when we remember that in 
their very nature such evils are but temporary. The 
vanity of the superficially informed man, for instance, 
arises solely from his comparison of himself with his un- 
informed neighbours: spread throughout them all the 
same amount of knowledge, and his elevation ceases. 
The savage who had picked up a hat on the sea-shore, 
and was elated by his European dignity above his neigh- 
bours! was reduced to the condition of one member of a 

hatted aristocracy by the arrival of a ship which supplied 
to a limited extent the demand for the new head-dress. 
Continue the intercourse, and the hat ceases to be even an 
aristocratic distinction: all are covered, and none are 
proud of their covering. 

Thus it appears that the evil is but temporary in both 
cases : the vanity arising from superficial knowledge in the 
young dies out as they grow older — in the uninformed of 
riper ^ears, by the advance of their neighbours to their 
own standing. In the meantime, however, it may not be 
amiss to suggest one or two considerations which may 
tend to accelerate the process. 

It is the abuse of the amusing and attractive introduc- 
tions to knowledge, so abundantly supplied in modern 
times, which creates the vanity which we lament. They 
were intended as introductions merely, to excite a curiosity 
which should seek its gratification in a thorough investi- 
gation of the subject thus brought before the reader. It 
is the use of them by themselves, the resting in the pic- 
ture-alphabet instead of advancing to the intellectual 
stores which lie beyond, which forms the superficial cha- 
racter whence vanity springs up as from its native soil. 

By the judicious use of these elementary books, the 
fault may be corrected. We would • most earnestly im- 
press on the attention of all readers the necessity of pro- 
secuting further some one branch of knowledge to which 
they are introduced by their general reading. They will 
soon discover for what particular branch they are best 
fitted,- by observing which it is that interests them most, 
and makes the deepest impression on their minds. This 
then, whatever it may be, let them set up as the main 
object of their study. This let them follow out in books 
of a deeper character than those elementary treatises 
which first discovered to them their leading taste. Let 
tfcem not neglect to increase their general knowledge : 
but let them sedulously cultivate this particular branch. 
The first and most striking advantage of this course is, 
that it will be the more likely to lead to eminence in in- 
tellectual pursuits. The path to distinction is through 
the cultivation, in concentrated force, of some single branch 
of knowledge. But there is a more important advantage 
of the course we recommend. The thorough investiga- 
tion of one chosen topic of inquiry is as favourable to 
humility as the superficial attention to all is to vanity. 
After long and diligent study, the inquirer begins to feel 
in some degree master of his subject ; yet even here he 
sees before him in the race others whom bis own experience 
teaches him how highly to respect. His supposed ac- 
quaintance with general knowledge, suffices at any rate 
to show him how wide is the field of science of which he 
has been cultivating but a corner. His general know- 
ledge then unites with his especial scientific attainments 
to produce humility, that truest ornament and surest 
accompaniment of real knowledge. Knowledge produces 
in him its proper moral effects : it makes him not only 
wiser but better. As an individual, he will continue 
diligently to follow up the science of which he has ac- 
quired a portion : his acquisitions will give him self- 
respect, yet stimulate his desire for further advance. As 
a member of society, he will possess the inestimable quali- 
ties of a good learner, as well as a good teacher : he will 
be full of information on his favourite subject ; yet ever 
ready in return to learn from others whose particular 
studies have fitted them likewise to instruct in their own 
department. The respect which he owes to them will 
be cheerfully paid, for it rests on the same foundation as 
that which he claims for himself ; and intellectual activity 
will be gracefully united with mutual good-will. 

V The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Hoowledg* U 
at 59. Lincoln's Ion Fields. 

Printed by Wilua* Cwwm and Soirt, Stamford Street* 

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[January 20, 

of Parliament have been thundered at them — the law has 
dealt with them — -justices and constables have chased 
them from county to county : — they have survived all. 
Driven into our towns and 'cities by the inclemency of 
winter, they scarcely ever fail to go out in summer, to 
wander about, and pitch their tents, like their forefathers 
and brethren under the burning sun of India. We may 
hear them talking in the broadest of our provincial dia- 
lects, and presently after muttering words amongst them- 
selves which Sir William Jones pronounced to be " pure 
Sanscrit, scarcely changed in a single letter." Yet the 
people have had no literature whatever — no bards to endear 
to them their primitive accents, nor mountain barriers to 
keep their language and their customs from being ab- 
sorbed. One thing has held them aloof : " their hand 
has been against every man, and every man's hand 
against them." But this, instead of separating them 
from us, has only shut them up more closely amongst 
themselves; and the harsh treatment they generally ex- 
perienced, and the contempt so unequivocally manifested 
towards them, never cured their propensities, but only 
deepened them. 

Individuals were occasionally to be found, but rarely, 
who looked upon them with kindness and pity, and these 
have sometimes experienced that the gypsies were not 
destitute of human feelings. Latterly the practice of the 
system of kindness towards them has been on the in- 
crease, especially within the last twenty-five or thirty years ; 
and this, with the numerous inclosures of waste lands, 
and the diffusion of the conveniences of cities in tlie 
country, appear to be elowly effecting what legislation and 
police "could not, Perhaps in another generation one 
may travel from Dover to Duncansby Head, and neither 
see nor hear of a gypsy encampment or a wandering 
" tinkler." 

So well established does the Oriental origin of the 
gypsies appear to be, that Bishop Heber says, " The time 
and occasion of their arrival in Europe seem the chief 
problem in their history." Perhaps it is only the " oc- 
casion" of tlieir arrival in Europe that constitutes the 
problem : the w time" appears to be pretty nearly ascer- 
tained. It was about the beginning of the 1 5th century, 
and it has been conjectured that their movement may 
. have been occasioned by the victories and ferocities of 
Timour or Tamerlane. They appear to have passed from 
India to Egypt, and from thence, by the Mediterranean, 
into Europe. Bishop Heber is inclined to derive the 
race from Persia ratjier than India; but the majority of 
those who have traced the Eastern origin of the gypsies 
are disposed to consider the latter country as their primi- 
tive seat. It is scarcely doubtful that they entered 
Europe from Egypt. They are first mentioned in Ger- 
many in 1417 ; and they appear, with Eastern subtlety, 
to have imposed on the people and ecclesiastical authori- 
ties with forged stories respecting themselves, in much 
the same way that the crafty Gibeonitcs did on Joshua, 
and for a like purpose. They were a considerable time 
on. the Continent Wore they crossed over to England. 
Here they were generally known as Egyptians (from 
which our word " gypsies" is a corrupt abbreviation), and 
they must have been in considerable numbers to have 
called forth the Act of Parliament passed in 1530 (22 
Hen. VIII. c. 10), which is termed " An Acte concernyng 
Egypsyans." The preamble is as follows; it is a gene- 
ral description of the gypsy character to the present 
day : — 

"Forasmouch as afore this tyme dyvers and many 
outlandyshe people calling themselves Egyptians, using 
bo crafte nor faicte of marchandyse, have comen into this 
rearme, and gone from shire to shire and place to place 
in great company, and used'greate subtyll and crafty 
meanes to deceyve the people, beryng them in hand^that 
they by Palmestre coulde telle menne and women's for- 
tunes, and to many timet by crafte and tubtyltie have 

deceyved the people of theyr money," &c. They arc 
also charged with " many and haynous felonys and rob- 
beries." They were ordered to depart the kingdom 
within fifteen days, under penalties; and vessels were 
employed by the government in their deportation. From 
another act, passed five years afterwards, by which a 
penalty of 40/. was imposed on any one bringing an 
Egyptian into England, it is evident that captains of 
vessels found the passage-money of the wanderers to be 
as productive as thnt of others. 

But neither these Acts nor those of subsequent reigns 
(one of Elizabeth's ordered them to depart the kingdom, 
on pain of being declared felons without benefit of clergy) 
could drive the "Egyptians" from the country. The 
state of internal communication and the hardy mode of 
life of the gypsies prevented the law from being carried 
out in all its rigour. The great bulk of the people stood 
in awe of them — mysterious beings as they thought them, 
who, though beggars and outcasts themselves, could yet 
reveal to their credulous harbourers the secrets of futu- 
rity. They were also useful — pests though they were 
considered — in carrying into remote corners of the coun- 
try many articles of traffic, and by their mechanical 
ability in tinkering. When we consider that even in the 
reign of Queen Anne a cabinet minister wrote to Marl- 
borough, that it would take two months to send an order 
for a national thanksgiving all over the country, we may 
fancy the usefulness of the wandering gypsies, and regret 
that legislative horror of their pretences in the absurdities 
of fortune-telling should have made them be treated 
with a severity that poisoned the good they might other- 
wise have done. Under the severe Act of Elizabeth, 
many gypsies were apprehended from time to time and 
executed. The severity of the law was mitigated ; but 
from the reign of Queen Anne, the gypsies were included \ 
in the Vagrant Act, and described as "persons pretending 
to be gypsies, or wandering in the habit or form of coun- 
terfeit Egyptians, or pretending to have skill in physiog- 
nomy, palmestry, or (ike crafty science." 

Trie gypsies appear to have penetrated into Scotland 
shortly after their arrival in England— the severities ex- 
ercised towards them in the soutli may have contributed 
to send them northwards, There is a copy of a curious 
document printed in the first volume of ' Blackwood's 
Magazine;' it is a writ of privy-seal in favour of 
" Johnne Faw, lord and Erie of Littill Egypt," granted 
by James V., and dated February 15, 1540. It is ad- 
dressed to legal authorities, sherifls, and others, to assist 
this " lord and Erie" in the execution of justice " upon 
his company and folk?, conforme to the lawes of Egypt, 
and iu punissing all that rebellis aganis him." The na- 
tural inference from this is, that one of the leaders of the 
gypsies, on their first entrance into Scotland, had suc- 
ceeded in imposing on the Scottish government, and 
either under the pretence or on the occasion of an actual 
feud, had procured a legal recognition of his claims. 
The cheat succeeded for a time, but was at last found 
out; the Scottish Vagrant Act of 1579 mentions "the 
idle peopil calling themselves Egyptians," and classes 
them along with " Strang begares and vagabounds," as 
well as such as " make themselves rules and are bairdes, 
or other sik like runners about." 

The gypsies of England and Scotland, without losing 
their own habits and customs, imbibed many of the cha- 
racteristic manners of the respective countries within 
which they roved — the Scotch more than the English. 
This is easily accounted for. The English poor-laws 
tended in Borne degree to reduce the numbers of wander- 
ing vagabonds and " masterless" men, and to keep the 
gypsies comparatively free from intermixture. But Scot- 
land, and especially the Borders, or " Debatable Land," 
swarmed with sturdy and idle vagrants, many of whom 
intermarried with gypsies, and, in adopting their habits, 
added to them their own ferocious spirit. There was 

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thus, in Scotland, down to a comparatively recent period, 
a race of mongrels, who spoke the broadest Doric of their 
native country, and had all the lawless courage and inde- 
pendence of the Borderer, yet who lived like some of the 
.wildest tribes of India, and, like them too, deprived each 
other of life, in their private quarrels, with the most 
savage vindictiveness. Sir Walter Scott, amongst the 
jnany anecdotes which he has recorded of the Scotch 
gypsies in ' Blackwood's Magazine,' tells one respecting 
a 'gang, of which two were quarrelling in a farnvhouse ; 
and when the one stabbed the othtfr with his knife, the 
only remark which was made by the others was, " Ye 
hae dune for him noo, Rah." Sir Walter's father hap- 
pened to arrive on the instant, and raised a pursuit of the 
murderer, who, by the assistance of a blacksmith, was 
apprehended, and afterwards executed. But the black- 
smith deemed it prudent to leave that part of the country, 
to avoid the vengeance of the rest of the gang. 

The most common names of the English gypsies are 
Smith, Cooper, Taylor, Lovcll, Bosswcl, Lee, Loversedge, 
Allen, Carew, Corrie, Buckley, Glover, &c. Those of the 
Scotch — Faa (descended from the " lord and erle of Littil 
Egypt")* Young, Ruthven, Blythe, Fleckie, Gordon, &c. 

the first satisfactory account of the gypsies was given 
in the Dissertation of Grellmann, translated from the 
German by Mr\ Raper. This work will be noticed in a 
subsequent article. Grellmann collected a gypsy voca* 
bulary, which was found, on examination by Sir William 
Jones and other Oriental linguists, clearly to establish the 
fact of the Indian origin of the gypsies* In our own 
country, Mr. Hoy land, a member of the Society of 
Friends, exerted himself with industrious benevolence on 
the behalf of the gypsies, and wrote a plain but very 
satisfactory book respecting them, which was published in 
1816. Mr. Hoyland's exertions and book were the cause 
of bringing out the articles in * Blackwood's Magazine,' 
to which reference has already been made. 

Anxious to gather information which would enable him 
to devise some plan for the amelioration of ihe condition 
of the gypsies, Mr. Hoyland visited several of their en- 
campments, and sent circulars all over Britain, making 
inquiries respecting them, to which answers were re- 
turned, amongst other persons, by Sir Walter Scott. In 
the summer of 1814, Mr. Hoyland visited a number of 
gypsy tents in Northamptonshire, in one of which a 
woman about 80 years of age, who had 40 grand-chil- 
dren, acknowledged that not one of them had been taught 
to read. Again, in the autumn of 1815, he came up to 
London, and was taken by a friend to see an encamp- 
ment in Hainault Forest. Mr. Hoyland had, by study- 
ing Grellmann's Vocabulary (taken, be it remembered, by 
a German from the mouths of Continental gypsies), made 
himself in some degree master of it. Hearing a young 
female belonging to the encampment in Hainault Forest 
suying something in their own peculiar speech to an 
older woman, he immediately explained the observation. 
I' pon which they at once exclaimed, " The gentleman 
understands what we say !" and they gave way to 
immoderate transports of joy, saying they would tell him 
anything he wished to know of them. The late Lord 
Teignmouth, by his knowledge of Hindustani, was able 
to converse with an old gypsy at Norwood. 

Mr. Hoyland afterwards had an interview with a num- 
ber of gypsies, " collected at the house, of his friend, 
William " Corder, grocer, in Broad-street, St. Giles's." 
" Being accustomed to lay out their money at the shop 
of this grocer, he said they would be very ready to attend 
upon his invitation ; and accordingly a number of them 
soon made their appearance." They acknowledged 
ihemselves to be gypsies, and many of them had the fea- 
tures as well as the complexion of Asiatics. Mr. Hoy- 
land ascertained that a few of the gypsies continued all 
the year in London, excepting at the times of their 
*ttendance at fairs in the vicinity. Others, when work 

was scarce, went out twenty or thirty miles round the 
metropolis, carrying their implements with them on asses, 
and some of them assisted in hay-making and plucking 
hops in Kent, Surrey, and Sussex. Among those who 
had winter-quarters in I^ondon there were some who took 
circuits of great extent. 

Norwood, about seven miles from London, was once a 
famous resort of the gvpsies ; but its enclosure drove 
them away. In fact, the neighbourhood of London is 
more frequented by mongrel and degenerate gypsies, and 
by mere impostors, than by those who still retain the 
lineaments of the tribe. Towards the northern and west- 
ern parts of England the genuine gypsies are still to be 
found in considerable numbers ; ana they sometimes 
encamp in winter as well as in summer. The occupa- 
tions followed by the English gypsies have been generally 
those of dealers in horees and asses, farriers, smiths, tin- 
kers, braziers, grinders of cutlery, basket-makers, chair- 
bottomers, and musicians. 

It is perhaps scarcely necessary to allude to the pecu- 
liar feature of the gypsy character—" fortune- telling:" 
but as the wood-cut, taken from Sir Joshua Reynolds's 
picture, embodies the romance of a practice which has, 
in reality, very little of the romantic in it, we may make 
a remark or two on the subject. 

Whether the " Egyptians" were proficients in the tricks 
of palmistry before their arrival in Europe, or, with the 
quickness and ready tact of Hindu cunning, adopted the 
practice as a means of earning money at a time when the 
bulk of the people in all European Countries were credu- 
lous and superstitious to an extreme, is not certain. This 
much is certain, that down even to the present day the 
gypsy in England, and the " Bpae-wife " in Scotland, 
can find dupes to put faith in their pretended divinations. 
London newspaper Police-reports occasionally reveal the 
fact that silly servants empty their own pockets, and suffer 
their masters' houses to be robbed while listening to these 
delusions. The practice, as is well known, and as Sir 
Joshua's picture imports, has not been confined to dupes 
in humble life. 

Sir Walter Scott, in a communication to Mr. Hoyland, 
says, " A set of people possessing the same erratic habits, 
and practising the trade of tinkers, are well known in the 
Borders, and have often fallen under the cognizance of 
the law. They are often called gypsies, and pass through 
the country annually in small bands, with their carts and 
asses. The men are tinkers, poachers, and thieves upon 
a small scale. They also sell crockery, deal in old rags, 
in eggs, in salt, in tobacco, and such trifles ; and manu- 
facture horn into spoons." 

There are some interesting particulars in Mr. Hoy- 
land's book respecting the colony of gypsies at Kirk 
Yetholm, who in winter inhabited a street in that town 
long known locally as " Tinkler's Row." Mr. Hoyland's 
correspondent says, " When first I knew the colony, old 
Will Faa was king or leader, and had held the sovereignty 
for many years. Meeting at Kelso with Mr. Walter 
Scott, whose discriminating habits and just observations 
I had occasion to know from his youth, and at the same 
time seeing one of my Yetholm friends in the horse-mar- 
ket, I merely said to Mr. Scott, ' f J ry to get before that 
man with the long drab coat, look at him on your return, 
and tell me whether you ever saw him, and what you 
think of him.' He was so good as to indulge me, and 
rejoining me, said without hesitation, ' I never saw the 
man, that I know of; but he is one of the gypsies of 
Yetholm that you told me of several years ago.' I need 
scarcely say that he was perfectly correct." 

The reader will find some observations on the present 
state of the Tinkers of Scotland, at p. 502, vol. V. of the 
Penny Magazine. The articles previously referred to in 
the first and second volumes of Blackwood's Magazine 
contain a variety of anecdotes illustrative of the daring, vin- 
drctivencss, andgratitudeof a generation no longerextsiing» : 

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[January 20, 

[The Victoria Retina.] 

Tub forests and rivers of Guiana present an almost unex- 
plored field for scientific research. Mr. Waterton, in his 
amusing ' Wanderings/ has done something to render 
their varied treasures familiar to the public; and one 
might have thought that his book of itself was sufficient 
to tempt hundreds to tread in his footsteps. But it is 
not every naturalist or botanist who can kill a " modern 
Python," or ride " on the back of a cayman close to the 
water's edge." Although some persons may think that a 
few of this traveller's lively descriptions have a tinge of 
the marvellous, one cannot but sympathise with that 
genuine adventurous spirit in which he travelled the mag- 
nificent forests of Demerara and Essequibo. " Alone 
and barefooted," he tells us, " I have pulled poisonous 
snakes out of their lurking-places ; climbed up trees to 
peep into holes for bats and vampires, and for days toge- 
ther hastened through sun and rain to the thickest parts 
of the forest to procure specimens I had never got before. 
In fine, I have pursued the wild beasts over hill and dale, 
through swamps and quagmires, now scorched by the 
noon-day sun, now drenched by the pelting shower, and 
returned to the hammock to satisfy the cravings of hun- 
ger, often on a poor and scanty supper." 

Dr. Hancock, in a little pamphlet on the ' climate, 
soil, and productions of British Guiana,' says, " This 
new world of vegetables has never been explored or in- 
vestigated : many of the plants, indeed, have been made 
known botanically, that is to say, so far as mere descrip- 
tive botany goes, or the notation of external forms." 
" Not only," he adds, in another place, " in respect to 
numberless products useful in medicine and the arts, but 
likewise numerous fruits and nutritive vegetables, Europe 
has yet to become acquainted with these fruitful regions 
of South America." The engraving given aboye shows , 
that there we ako jnott Extraordinary " vegetable won- 

ders " to be found in Guiana. £ The two engravings have 
been copied from the original drawings by permission of 
the Botanical Society. This new genus, which is allied 
to the water-lily, has been named " Victoria Regina," by 
permission of the Queen. Its discoverer, R. H. Schom- 
burgk, Esq., transmitted the original drawings and a 
description to the London Botanical Society. His com- 
munication, which was read at a meeting of the Society 
on September 7, 1837, is dated " New Amsterdam, Ber- 
bice, May 11th, 1837." New Amsterdam, the capital 
of an almost unknown British colony, stands on the east 
bank of the Berbice river. 

Mr. Schomburgk says, "It was on the 1st of January 
this year, while contending with the difficulties nature 
opposed in different forms to our progress up the river 
Berbice (in British Guiana), that we arrived at a point 
where the river expanded and formed a currentless basin : 
some object on the southern extremity of this basin 
attracted my attention — it was impossible to form any 
idea what it could be, and animating the crew to increase 
the rate of paddling, shortly afterwards we were opposite 
the object which had raised my curiosity — a vegetable 
wonder! All calamities were forgotten : I felt as a bo- 
tanist, and felt myself rewarded. A gigantic leaf, from 
five to six feet in diameter, salver-shaped, with a broad 
rim of a light green above, and a vivid crimson below, 
resting upon the water : quite in character with the won- 
derful leaf was the luxuriant flower, consisting of many 
hundred petals, passing in alternate tints from pure white 
to rose and pink. The smooth water was covered with 
them ; I rowed from one to another, and observed always 
something new to admire. The leaf on its surface is of a 
bright green, in form orbiculate, with this exception op 
posite its axis, where it is slightly bent in : its diameter 
measured from five to six feet; around the margin 

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extended a rim, about three 'to five inches high, on the 
inside light green, like the surface of the leaf, on the out- 
side like the leafs lower part, of a bright crimson. The 
stem of the flower is an inch thick near the calyx, and is 
studded with sharp elastic prickles about three-quarters 
of an inch in length. The calyx is four-leaved, each 
upwards of seven inches in length, and three in breadth 
at the base ; they are thick, white inside, reddish-brown 
and prickly outside. The diameter of the calyx is twelve 
to thirteen inches: on it rests the magnificent flower, 
which, when fully developed, covers completely the calyx 
with its hundred petals. When it first opens, it is white 
with pink in the middle, which spreads over the whole 

flower the more it advances in age, and it is generally 
found the next day of a pink colour ; as if to enhance 
its beauty, it is sweet-scented : like others of its tribe, it 
possesses a fleshy disk, and petals and stamens pass gra- 
dually into each other, and many petaloid leaves may be 
observed, which have vestiges of an anther. We met 
them afterwards frequently, and the higher we advanced 
the more gigantic they became : we measured a leaf, 
which was six feet dye inches in diameter, its rim five 
and a half inches high, and the flower across fifteen 
inches. The flower is much injured by a beetle (Thrin- 
cius species ?) which destroys completely the inner part ; 
we have counted from twenty to thirty in one flower." 

[unaer kiuooi a icai.j 


Domestic Waters. 

Ip we look around us at the processes, both natural and 
artificial, which are constantly going on, and at the 
changes in appearance and in property which those pro- 
cesses induce on material bodies, we cannot fail to arrive 
at the conclusion that Water stands in the foremost rank 
of important agents in bringing about those changes. It 
is impossible for us to say whether air or water renders 
the larger amount of useful service to man : whether air, 
by its indispensable agency in the process of respiration, 
and consequently in the maintenance of vitality — or 
water, by its infinite use as a solvent, as a food indispen- 
sable to animals and vegetables, upon which their growth, 
luxuriance, and utility depend ; as a modifier and cor- 
rector of that powerful principle, heat ; and as the source 
of that delightful freshness and fertility which render the 
earth so beautiful, and the air which surrounds it that 
healthful, admirable medium which we know it to be. 
But happily no necessity exists that we should establish 
a competition for priority of claim to our admiration, 
between those two bodies ; suffice it to say, that so mani- 
fold are their applications, that no human ingenuity or 
research has yet discovered all the uses of either of them. 
Each one draws largely on our gratitude for the service to 
which man has been able to apply it, and should at the 
same time incite us to enlarge and extend the bounds of 
iu utility by observation and experimental inquiry. 

It need not excite our surprise that in the early ages 
Water was looked upon as one of the elements of which 
all inanimate nature was formed — the other three being 
Air, Fire, and Earth; and it was not until the latter 
end of the last century that the rapid extension of che-, 
mical inquiry elicited the truth that water is not an ele- 
ment, or a simple sul>stance, but that it is composed of 
two bodies, both of which are, in the uncombined state, 
gaseous ; that is, oxygen and hydrogen. 

To Mr. Henry Cavendish is due the merit of having 
first decomposed water in the year 1T66 Oxygen gas 

was discovered by Dr. Priestley on the 1st August, 1774. 
But the grand experiment which decided the truth of the 
statement that pure water consists of nothing but oxygen 
and hydrogen was performed at Paris, in 1790, by Four- 
croy, Vauquelin, and Seguin ; and the circumstances 
under which the experiment was carried on strikingly 
illustrate the energy and perseverance of those chemists. 
They kept the process in constant activity for 185 hours 
successively — alternately taking a few hours' rest on mat- 
tresses kept in the laboratory. The quantities of gas 
and of the resulting liquid were as follows : — They burnt 
25,963 568 cubic inches of hydrogen, which weighed 
1039*358 grains. In the process of combustion 
12,570*942 grains of oxygen were consumed, which 
weighed 6209 ' 869 grains ; the total weight of the two 
gases being 7249*227 grains. By this process the two 
gases were combined, and there resulted 7244 grains of 
water, being only 5i grains less than the previous weight 
of the gases employed. 

Such then being the gaseous materials of which water is 
formed, we proceed to give within a limited compass a gene- 
ral view of the availability of water for the purposes of life ; 
and in so doing we shall find it convenient to adopt a 
mode of classification by which water may be divided 
into different kinds, such as the different properties which 
it exhibits may seem to justify. Many different modes 
of classification have been used, but that which we shall 
adopt will be to consider water under two general heads, 
that is, Domestic, and Medicinal. We proceed now to 
consider domestic water in the order, according as it is 
derived from the atmosphere, from springs, from rivers, 
and from lakes. The second division will include short 
accounts of medicinal waters, such as sea water, and the 
numerous kinds of mineral waters. 

I. Domestic Waters; that is, such as are used for 
drinking and ordinary domestic purposes. 

This class may be conveniently considered to compre- 
hend four kinds: 1st, Atmospheric Water; 2nd, Spring 
Water ; 3rd, River Water ; and 4th, Lake Water. 

1. Atmospheric water may include all the liquid re- 

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[January 20, 

suits of atmospheric phenomena, such as rain, hail, snow, 
&c, in the Btate in which they fall to the earth, and be- 
fore they have acquired any* mineral taint by passing 
over or through the surface of the ground. This water 
is very pure, and contains but a small portion of foreign 
matter, part of which it is supposed to absorb in its pas- 
sage towards the earth— especially over large towns. 
This may serve to account for the fact' that in general 
hail and snow are found to be in a state of greater purity 
than rain ; for as hail consists of the drops of rain 
frozen in the act of falling, and snow of the watery 
vapour frozen before it has had time to form into globu- 
lar drops, it is obvious that they cannot attract and take 
into their substance particles of extraneous matter with 
that facility which the same bodies in the liquid form 
could do. 

The source of this atmospheric water is evaporation 
from the surface of the ocean, seas, rivers, lakes, &c. 
This evaporation is constantly going on from those sur- 
faces, even at the lowest temperatures, until the superin- 
cumbent air is saturated — that is, contains as large a 
portion of water as it will retain in a state of vapour. 
That steam rises from the surface of a body of water in 
a hot day is well known ; but it may excite some sur- 
prise to be told that on the coldest day steam is rising 
from the same surface — nay, the solid foim of ice does 
not prevent a portion of its substance ascending in the 
form of steam. This portion is, however, at low tempe- 
ratures very minute; but that a low temperature does 
not put a period to the formation of steam has been 
established by numerous experiments. It is, however, 
when the temperature attains the medium height of the 
temperate climates that the quantity of aqueous vapour 
becomes important ; and near the equator, where the 
sun's rays, being received nearly vertically, are necessarily 
more powerful than when received more obliquely, the 
quantity of water which ascends into the atmosphere in 
the form of steam is enormous. It may be seen, by 
referring to a map, that nine large rivers pour their 
waters into the bosom of the Mediterranean Sea, besides 
a great number of smaller rivers. By experiments 
made on the dimensions and velocities of the principal 
rivers, it has been computed that nearly 200,000,000 
tons of water flow into the Mediterranean per day ; but 
what is more extraordinary, it has been stated that up- 
wards of 500,000,000 tons evaporate from the surface of 
the Mediterranean in the course of a hot eummer*s day ; 
that is, 2i times as much as the whole of its tributary 
rivers supply to it in the same time. This increase of 
evaporation above the amount of the supply from the 
rivers accounts for the current which is always flowing 
from the Atlantic through the Straits of Gibraltar into 
the Mediterranean — a phenomenon which was considered 
inexplicable until the influence of evaporation was taken 
into the account. 

Besides the evaporation from the surface of water, there 
is likewise a constant ascent of vapour from vegetable 
and other substances during the day, when the sun 
raises the temperature of the surface of the earth consi- 
derably above its mean temperature. A familiar mode 
of estimating, in a rough way, the amount of this evapo- 
ration on a given surface, was devised by Dr. (afterwards 
Bishop) Watson, which we will describe in his own 
words: — "On the 2nd of June, 1779, when the sun 
shone bright and hot, I put a large drinking-glass, with 
its mouth downwards, upon a grass-plat which was 
mown close. There had been no rain for above a month, 
and the grass was become brown. In less than two mi- 
nutes the inside of the glass was clouded with a vapour, 
and in half an hour drops of vapour began to trickle 
down its inside in various places. This experiment was 
repeated several times with the same success. 

" That I might accurately estimate the quantity thus 
raise* in any certain portion of time, \ measure the area 

of the mouth of the glass, and found it to be twenty 
square inches. When the glass had stood on the grass- 
plat one quarter of an hour, and had collected a quantity 
of vapour, I wiped it inside with a piece of muslin, the 
weight of which I had previously taken ; as soon as the 
glass was wiped dry, the muslin was weighed again : its 
increase of weight showing the quantity of vapour which 
had been collected." — Chemical Essays, vol. hi., p. 54. 
From the mean of several experiments, Dr. Watson 
found the quantity to be six grains in a quarter of an 
hour; which, reckoning at that ratio, would give 1600 
gallons in 24 hours from an acre of ground. This, it 
will be remembered, was on a hot day, when no rain had 
fallen for a month previously, and is therefore very far 
below the quantity that would rise from moist grass* 

An inquiry into the causes and effects of these atmo- 
spheric phenomena does not fall within the scope of this 
article, and would lead us too far from it, as our object 
is to treat of the liquid product of these phenomena. 

2. Spring Hater. We have hitherto been speaking of 
the water which results from atmospheric phenomena in 
the state in which it fulls from the clouds, without tracing 
its properties modified by contact with the earth. But 
we shall now find that the same water no longer exhibits 
the same characters if it pass through strata of earth pre- 
vious to being applied for use. 

That portion of rain, hail, and enow which falls on 
the liquid portions of the earth's surface, necessarily 
mixes with the water into which it falls, and its distinc- 
tive properties are soon lost by that commixture. But 
that portion which falls on the land is subjected to a dif- 
ferent process : if it fall on a field of grass or any plot 
of ground thickly covered with vegetation, part "of it 
sinks into the soil — another part is evaporated as soon as 
the rain, &c, ceases — and a third portion is decomposed 
by the vegetable bodies themselves, the hydrogen being 
absorbed as part of the food of the vegetable, and the 
oxygen being given off in the state of gas. It is this 
which renders the vicinity of vegetation so refreshing to 
man after a shower of rain — oxygen being, of all other 
substances, the most active supporter of animal life. 
Thus much for the rain, &c, which falls on a verdant 
soil ; but if it fall on a barren mountain track, or on a 
sandy plain, a different train of effects follows. Here no 
vegetation, or at most a very small portion, is present to 
decompose part of the water as it falls, nor are there any 
succulent roots to absorb the moisture from the soil. All 
therefore which does not evaporate must sink into the 
soil, and force for itself an outlet in another direction. 
If the surface be rocky, the water will merely flow down 
the outside ; but if it be porous, the water flows into the 
pores, both by virtue of gravity and of capillary attrac- 
tion. By this means an infinite number of minute 
threads or filaments of water may be filtering through 
the soil, and will continue to do so until they find either 
a cavity which will serve as a reservoir, or a compact 
stratum of earth or clay which resists their farther pro- 
gress. If the latter be the case, the little stream will take 
a lateral or oblique course, as the case may be ; always 
tending, whenever an opportunity occurs, \o the lowest 
level. We may in this way suppose that a large extent 
of sandy strata in a mountainous district has formed an 
assemblage of channels for the passage of minute fila- 
ments of water, but that at a certain depth below the 
surface the stratum of sand was succeeded by one of 
clay, the adhesive tenacity of which prevented anv per- 
colation through it. The little infant streams "would 
then seek a new path, and would follow the course of the 
sandy soil in a lateral direction. This course might 
extend beyond the base of the mountain, and beneath the 
soil of a neighbouring plain or valley. If now a fissure 
or perforation, either natural or artificial, were made 
through the vegetable soil down to the sand which con- 
tained the little streams ujf water, the latter would ascend 

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through the fissure to a height depending upon the 
height of the subterranean streams in the interior of the 
mountain ; that is, it would ascend to the surface of the 
ground in the valley, provided there was a continuous 
chain of liquid streams to an equal elevation in the 
mountain. Thus would arise the first germs of a spring- 
well ; and, when once formed, it would be constantly 
supplied, as the neighbouring streams became gradually 
brought into the same channel. Were this process, how- 
ever, the only one carried on in the supply of a spring, 
the supply of the well would be constantly fluctuating, 
and in a short time after the cessation of rain the well 
would become dry. This is however, in most cases, pre- 
yented by the existence of natural reservoirs in the 
mountain, at or above the level of the water in the well. 
There is no doubt that there are many cavities in the 
body of a mountain, the result perhaps of a disruption 
in remote ages. These cavities act as reservoirs for a 
multiplicity of little streams which have percolated 
through the upper strata, and as long as any water re- 
mains in those reservoirs the well in the neighbouring 
valley will continue to afford its supply. 

The above is a rough outline of the origin of spring- 
wells, and will serve to give a general idea of their for- 
mation ; but there are many circumstances which modify 
the abundance of the supply and the degree of difficulty 
with which it is attained. Some springs' are supplied 
from such an elevated source, that the water spouts out 
of the ground in a continued stream ; while, on the other 
hand, some are derived from such a depressed source that 
a well has to be sunk 300 or 400 feet in depth before the 
water can be reached. In some springs the flow of the 
water is intermitting, being very abundant at one time, 
and altogether suspended at others. 

The rain water, by thus slowly trickling through 
minute pores, undergoes a process of filtration, which in 
most cases gives it a crystalline purity which has served 
poets with analogies and similes ever since poets existed. 
But this filtration is not the only process which it under- 
goes ; it does not pass through the soil without imbibing 
some foreign matters as well as losing others. The mi- 
neral qualities of the different soils through which it has 
percolated invariably produce some changes in its com- 
position. If it pass through a chalky soil, it absorbs a 
portion of lime into its substance : if the soil be ferrugi- 
nous, it absorbs iron, and so forth. When the foreign 
matter which the water has absorbed is of a saline or a 
complicated nature, the water then comes under the 
denomination of mineral water ; but when its properties 
have suffered the least possible change, it is then called 
pure spring ipater, which differs from rain water princi- 
pally in containing a portion of lime. This lime rather 
improves than deteriorates its quality for drinking, but 
at the same time imparts to it that quality which we call 
hard, by which it is rendered unfit for many domestic 
purposes. Two of the most frequent applications of 
*atcr are, 1st, to soften by steeping, washing, &c. ; and 
2nd, to extract the nutritious or valuable principle of 
hodics by boiling, infusion, decoction, &c. For both of 
these purposes spring water is less available than rain 
water, principally on account of the lime which it 


[From a Ootrespondent.J 

No people in the world are such great travellers as the 
Americans. By this assertion I would not be under- 
wood to mean that they are a travelled nation, as taken 
ia the general acceptation of the word travelled. My 
assertion has mainly a reference to their erratic and un- 
settled habits and dispositions that everywhere forcibly 
strike the foreign observer. In England, and many other 
old-fashioned countries, there are thousands of persons 
*ho never were beyond the limits of the county in which 

they were born, or scarcely indeed beyond the boundaries 
of their native parish. With the Americans it is not 
so : it would puzzle one to find a man, or a woman 
either, of thirty years of age, that had never been beyond 
the boundary of the State in which he or she may be re- 
siding, although that State should be as large as either 
Scotland or Ireland. 

I have no doubt that the newness of the country is 
the primary and chief cause of the erratic disposition of 
the Americans ; and, unlike the inhabitants of older and 
thickly-settled communities, the great bulk of the rural 
population is composed of sojourners and wanderers. 
Ask a young and enterprising settler that you may 
chance to mett on the banks of the Upper Mississippi, 
or on the Missouri, to which State his family belongs ; 
and he will probably answer, " that grandfather was re- 
siding in New Hampshire when father emigrated among 
the early settlers to Ohio ; and that father's folks were 
still living in Ohio when^I came West." Now here are 
three generations (provided the father and grandfather 
be still alive) living from six to eight hundred miles 
apart, and yet, in common conversation, you will hear 
them speak of each other as familiarly as if they resided 
in three adjoiuing parishes. It is nothing uncommon for 
a farmer settled far into the interior to pay occasional 
visits to his friends and connexions in the old settlements; 
partly for an opportunity of boasting to his old acquaint- 
ances of his success in his new and adopted settlement, 
and partly from a desire to induce other persons to emi- 
grate to his part of the country. Many, at first sight, 
will not understand why he is anxious to give his settle- 
ment a high character : but the advantages are two-fold ; 
either it will enable him to sell his farm to good advan- 
tage, or it will induce other persons to settle in his 
vicinity — every additional settler increasing the value of 
the property of those already there. But the farmers, 
or, more properly, the pioneers of the country, are not 
more erratic than the commercial and trading portion of 
the community ; for a storekeeper in a small country 
village, or at some " four-corners" (cross roads), will not 
only travel twice in the year to some seaport two or three 
hundred miles off, but he will go as far in some other 
direction to lay in a stock of cast-iron or earthenware, 
and then take some other route to purchase such 
" notions" as the country may produce ; besides, during 
the proper season, he will probably scour the country in 
search of such cattle as it may seem advisable for him to 
drive to the distant city market. Business in the country 
is not done by commission. Every man buvs and sells 
and " trades" (barters) his own goods and chattels him- 
self, A man takes out a patent for the manufacture of 
some domestic article — a churn, for instance — and having 
stuck to his plane and his chisel until he has got as many 
made as a small waggon with one or two horses will con- 
veniently carry, he immediately harnesses his team, and 
sets out without any definite plan for his journey, and 
" peddles" his chums from town to town and village to 
village, until he has managed to dispose of his cargo, 
So it is with all other minur manufactures ; the manu- 
facturer, instead of waiting for orders, sets off with a 
load of his merchandize, and does not return until he has 
converted it into money, or goods of some sort that will 
answer his purpose equally well. 

Where the people are such general travellers, it seems 
natural to suppose that the facilities for travelling would 
be very great. This, however, is not exactly so ; first; 
because the roads in general are very indifferent, for lack 
of funds to make them better ; and, secondly, the ma- 
jority of the people travel in their own conveyances — of 
one description or another. These are one or two^horse 
waggons, rude as the wilderness they are destined to 
travel through, or light and ornamental, according to the 
tastes and circumstances of the owners. In America the 
stage-coaches, with few exceptions, profess not to travel 

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[January 20, 1838. 

by night ; "but owing to the badness of the roads, and the 
consequent breaking down of the carriages, and the ab- 
sence of any regulation as regards time, you frequently 
find yourself in the midst of some lone wilderness at mid- 
night, when you expected to have been comfortably in 
bed. The carriages, too, are very uneasy ; for, besides 
the misery of sitting three on a seat, and three seats to 
each carnage (nine msides}, the springs are necessarily so 
stiff and strong, that the jolting is intolerable. Nor can 
much be said for the accommodations of the stage- 
houses: in general you find enough to eat and drink, 
although that may be of a kind and quality you by no 
means would have chosen, had you been consulted in the 
matter ; but from the looks and demeanour of those who 
furnish the " victuals," you are at no loss to conclude 
that you are the party obliged, and that you ought to be 
very thankful for whatever the tavern-keepers may choose 
to provide, although you are made to pay pretty well for 
" victuals and accommodation." 

On many routes where stage-coacaes run there are ac- 
tually no regular places for the passengers to partake of 
refreshment. Of course there are relays of horses at 
certain places along the road ; but it often happens that 
the horses are kept at some small farm that answers 
pretty well as regards distance, without any regard to the 
accommodation of passengers. All the stage-coaches 
running in the interior of the country carry the mail- 
bags ; and the contractors, being aware that nobody will 
travel by the stage that can help it, never consult the 
comfort or convenience of passengers. The contractor 
being the sole individual concerned, he endeavours to 
find stabling for his horses all along the route at the most 
desirable distances ; and in some of the unsettled parts of 
the country he has to erect sheds and stables, and hovels 
for the persons to reside in who take care of the horses. 
Hay, in such case, has to be brought from a considerable 
distance ; but oats are generally brought by the stage in 
daily allowance. Not being "stinted to time, — for the 
government contracts which make any mention of time 
give it in days, and not in shabby hours and minutes, — 
the drivers are tolerably accommodating ; for if the pas- 
sengers express a wish to have " a meal's victuals" at 
some road-side tavern which is not a regular stopping- 
place, there is rarely any serious objection made to such 
an arrangement, provided the tavern-keepers are able and 
willing to supply the needful. 

Occasionally you arrive at a section of the road that is 
considered impassable, even for the strong-springed and 
stout hickory-built stage-coaches of the new countries : 
on such occasions you are put into a common un- 
covered lumber-waggon, a machine considered equal to 
undergo every species of jolt and thump that may be 
encountered under the impulse of a four-horse power ; 
the only possible accident that can befal it consisting of 
an overset. But' an open lumber-waggon, travelling at 
the rate of two or two and a half miles per hour, in a 
storm of wind and rain, or of sleet and snow, is by no 
means a pleasant conveyance ; and many a time have I 
descended from a cumbersome vehicle of this sort, and 
walked forward to the next halting-place, leaving ray 
luggage and the mail-bags to arrive an hour or two after- 
wards. Among the " traps" are straps, and ropes, and 
chains, composing the "extra" stores of a backwoods 
stage-driver; and that indispensable implement, the axe, 
must never be omitted ; for on lines of road which inter- 
sect large tracts of the forests of America, and along 
which few wheel-carriages besides the stage travel, and 
the stage probably but once or twice in the week, you 
seldom fail to find some huge tree across the road during 
some part of a day's journey, which, had not the driver 
brought an axe with him, would have proved an impass- 
able barrier. But that implement being at hand, the 
whip is relinquished for the axe, and in the course of an 
hour, or something more, according to the size, the tree 

being lopped of its branches, all hands are summoned to 
assist to roll the- log out of the way. 

Travelling upon horseback is not generally resorted 
to in very long journeys ; for, where the expense is not 
looked at, stage-coaches are generally patronized upon 
routes where there is no water-conveyance ; but although 
the fares are very moderate, they have to be paid in cash % 
and cash, among the backwoodsmen, " is a considerable 
scarce article." The most common mode of travelling, 
therefore, is the small waggon, generally light enough 
for one horse, but occasionally drawn by two ; and when 
there is sufficient snow in winter, the sleigh is universally 
substituted. To the traveller this mode is less fatiguing 
than riding upon horseback ; and if there be but a light 
weight in the waggon, and the country pretty level, pro- 
bably the horse is no great sufferer by this waggon sys- 
tem; for I have known 40 or 45 miles as the dally 
average rate of travelling where the horse has been but 
an indifferent one. This is also a cheaper mode of tra- 
velling than on horseback, for it enables the party to 
carry his or their provisions along with them, and often 
some few " notions" (articles of merchandize) to barter 
with the settlers for " a night's lodging and horse-keep- 
ing." An intelligent, 'cute Yankee, who understands 
matters of this sort, will manage to make a journey to the 
Far West, a distance of • a thousand miles or upwards* 
with an incredibly small outlay of cash. 

But steam-boat travelling is the kind above all others 
patronized by Brother Jonathan's people. Many a time 
have I been astonished at the crowds upon crowds of 
steam-boat travellers. Generally the fares are .very rea- 
sonable, and sometimes exceedingly low. Many of the 
boats are fitted up splendidly, with excellent accommo- 
dations for everything but sleeping. But hoW is it pos- 
sible to accommodate some hundreds of passengers with 
comfortable sleeping-berths, even in a boat of the largest 
size? When all the sleeping shelves and ledges have 
received their quota, the immense dining-cabin is cleared, 
and the cushions from all the seats are spread upon the 
cabin tables, which form a square platform in the centre of 
the cabin. When the signal is given that the platform 
is ready, a rush down the cabin stairs takes place, and 
presently the platform is covered with parallel rows o f 
human oeings. 

There is another mode of travelling by water, which 
thousands of the Americans patronize, and that is by their 
canals. Being remarkably fond of their ease, a canal- 
boat is the very thing for those that are not iii a hurry ; 
and those that are in a hurry find no other mode of con- 
veyance much more rapid than canal travelling ; I mean 
in the interior of the country, where the roads, for the 
most part, are bad. Four miles per hour, or nearly one 
hundred miles during the twenty-four, is the rate at 
which most of the packet-boats travel. Where the capa- 
city of the canal will admit of it, you find large and 
commodious boats, well stored with provisions of all sorts, 
and, except for the monotony of canal travelling, bv no 
means uncomfortable conveyances. 

Railroads, however, are making rapid inroads upon 
the canal traffic ; and when we Uke into the account both 
the extent and general levelness of the country, there is 
no saying where they may terminate — probably at the 
foot of the Rocky Mountains, or on the shores of the Pa- 
cific. But after all I am inclined to the opinion that 
America, priding herself as she does upon her inland 
waters — her noble rivers and lakes — will long continue 
the most remarkable country in the world for steam-boat 
travelling, notwithstanding the railroads that do, and 
may hereafter, chequer a large portion of that vast 

V Tha Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Kaowl«*i«« i« 

at 59. Lincoln's Inn Fields. 


Printed by William Olowxs ami Sous, Stamford Street. 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[Jantjart 27, 1838 , 



[Death of General Wolfe.— B. West.] 


John and Sebastian Cabot discovered North America — 

pvbMy the coasts of Labrador — in 1497, a year before 

Columbus, on his third voyage, saw the main land of 

Wh America. But though, at that period of extraor- 

^totfy excitement respecting maritime discovery, little 

•ttentton was paid by European governments to countries 

i^ica did not promise gold, or to open a way to the. 

Jodie*, there were not wanting private adveuturers who 

ptoght out and worked such mines of wealth as the sea- 

P*& afforded. Twenty years after the discovery of the 

j&tok there were a considerable number of Spanish, 

jBtngueBe, and French vessels engaged in the Newfound- 

W°A fishery ; and almost at the very commencement of 

& 16th century, the merchants and mariners of Dieppe 

*& St. Malo had explored the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and 

■ttTOcd the mouth of the river. The natives were 

Ira in the habit of coming down the river in their canoes 

*jpeat numbers during the summer ; and the discovery 

tton made that bear and beaver skins could be ex- 

Voi~ VII. 

changed for hatchets, knives, and beads, to tbe mutual 
satisfaction of all parties. 

In 1500, Gaspar Cortcreal was sent by the Portuguese 
government to examine the new-found lands; and in 
1 524 the report of the French merchants induced Fran- 
cis I. to send Giovanni Verazzano, a Florentine, for the 
same purpose. Verazzano sailed along a great extent 
of the sea-coast of the United States and British Ame- 
rica. Meantime it had become a current notion among 
the frequenters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, that some 
unknown country called Canada was yet to be disco- 
vered. They asked the natives, bv signs and gestures, 
about the great river which poured its flood into the gulf : 
they were told it was the river Hochelega ; that far up 
the river the country or kingdom of Hochelega was to 
be found ; but that the river itself stretched so great a 
way inland that they had never heard of any one who 
had reached its head. It seems uncertain how the word 
Canada arose, or whether it is of Indian or European 
origin : — " It is not improbable," says the * Penny Cyclo- 


Digitized by 




1$anua£t 21, 

podia/ u that Ac Spaniards, who are known to have visited 
the St. Lawrence before the English and French, on ob- 
serving the high banks between which the St. Lawrence 
rolls its waters to the ocean, in their astonishment may 
have compared it with a chasm or ravine, and hence 
called it Canada." 

The French government was induced to take up the 
project of examining the river and searching for the 
kingdom of country of Canada ; and, in the spring of 
1534, Jacques Cartier, a mariner of St. Malo, was sent 
to the Gulf of St. Lawrence. He returned in the fall of 
the year, having spent the time exploring the sea-coast ; 
he brought with him two young natives, and making a 
favourable report of a country which he had seen in the 
midst of summer, he so excited public curiosity, that early 
next year he was sent out again, with three vessels, to 
make farther discoveries. 

Cartier took back with him the two young natives, 
who, during their winter residence in France, had acquired 
so much of the French language as to be able to act as 
interpreters. He again spent a considerable portion of 
the year in the Gulf of St. Lawrence (the name was given 
by Cartier), but at last, animated by his two young na- 
tive companions, who told him that this was the way to 
Canada, he ventured up the river, as yet unexplored by 

Arriving at the place where the river Saguenay (it still 
preserves its native name) pours its immense flood into 
the St. Lawrence, he asked his guides about it. One of 
them appears to have possessed much of the usual craft 
of savages, and was probably not unwilling to play upon 
the credulity of the navigator. Cartier was told that the 
river led to the kingdom or country of Saguenay, " an 
inhabited land producing copper." This was a tempta- 
tion : but the steep and rocky banks of the Saguenay, 
which rise from 200 to 1000 feet in height, and its rapid 
current, presented obstacles to Cartier : so he pursued his 
way up the St. Lawrence, in search of the country of 

As he sailed upwards he gave names to the islands he 
passed, by which may of them are still known. On ar- 
riving at the Island of Orleans, which occupies the centre 
of the river, about 10 miles below Quebec, he concluded 
that he had now reached the place " where the country 
of Canada begins." He found the island, which is 18 
miles long and 5 broad, " thickly inhabited by natives, 
who live entirely by fishing in the river." Here his two 
young companions once more rejoined their countrymen, 
and were the medium of opening a friendly and sociable 
intercourse. But when Cartier proposed going farther 
up the river, in search of Hochelega, and asked his 
guides to accompany him, they not only manifested the 
greatest reluctance, but induced the natives to try by en- 
treaty to stop the progress of the expedition. It seems 
likely that the young men, while in France, or on board 
the vessels, had acquired some indistinct ideas respecting 
the intentions of the French, and had roused the jealousy 
of the natives ; or else the Indians generally were unwil- 
ling that a more distant tribe or settlement should share 
the knives, beads, and " tin baubles" which the French 
had in their power to give. Whatever was the motive, 
when entreaty had failed, a most notable stratagem was 
tried to frighten the French. " They dressed up three 
men like devils, in black and white dog-skins, having 
their faces blackened, and with horns on their heads a 
yard long." These hobgoblins were put into a canoe, 
which was suffered to float down the stream : and as it 
passed the French vessels one of its grotesque occupants 
stood up and made a long oration. The natives were 
anxiously watching the result on shore. Affecting to be 
themselves quite astonished at the apparition, they pur- 
sued the canoe, and when they had caught it, " the three 
devils fell down as if dead, when they were carried out 
into the wood, followed by all the savages." A confer- 

ence now ensued, and in about half an hour the two 
young natives, who had doubtless been the chief pro- 
jectors and managers of the buffoonery, made their ap 
pearance, apparently in great alarm, and calling out 
alternately, " Jesus Maria !" and " Jacques Cartier ! " 
On being asked what ailed them, they replied in French 
they had very bad news to tell. The news was, that 
their god Cudruaigny had spoken in Hochelega, and had 
sent these three men to say that there was so much ice 
and snow in that country, that whoever ventured there 
would surely die. Jacques Cartier was too old a sailor 
to be taken aback by so clumsy a trick ; he coolly told 
them that he had no reliance upon Cudruaigny; and 
that their God would defend them from all cold, if they 
believed in him. Thereupon they returned to their com- 
panions ; and the whole body, willing to put the best 
face on the unsuccessful fraud, came out of the wood 
dancing and singing, seemingly glad that Cartier had 
got a victory over Cudruaigny. 

Cartier set sail from the Island of Orleans ; and pass- 
ing between the heights of Quebec and Point Levi, arrived 
at " an excellent sound with a small river and haven." 
The " small river" is the Jacques Cartier, a torrent which 
dashes between its rugged banks into the St. Lawrence 
about 25 miles above Quebec. Here he left two of his 
vessels at anchor, and with the smallest continued his 
voyage upwards to Hochelega. At that enlargement of 
the river which bears the name of Lake St. Peter, shoals 
stretch out from either bank, leaving only a channel 
from 12 to 18 feet deep in the middle. Cartier could 
not find this channel, for he was obliged to leave his pin- 
nace behind, and continue his voyage with his boats. 
Passing the groups of islands at the upper end of Lake 
St. Peter, he continued his course till he arrived at that 
large island in the stream which contained the village, or, 
as Cartier terms it, the " city" of Hochelega. 

The natives, who appeared in great numbers, received 
him with boisterous joy ; and though deprived of the 
assistance of his interpreters, who had refused to go with 
him, he contrived to make himself understood by a judi- 
cious distribution of presents. Fish and provisions were 
freely given to him in return, and he was conducted to 
visit Hochelega. Ascending a mountain he was charmed 
with the prospect spread out on every side. Below was 
that river which he had now explored for nearly 600 
miles. Above he saw it still coming down " through the 
fair round mountains in a great rapid fall, the largest, 
widest, and swiftest that ever was seen." The natives 
informed him that there were three other such falls, and 
that after passing them " a man might sail three months 
continually up the river :" scarcely a hyperbolical ex- 
pression — for a line drawn from where Cartier now stood, 
Up to the head Of Lake Superior, through the centre of the 
river, the lakes, and their connecting channels, would mea- 
sure more than 1000 miles*. 

Carrier's feelings, as he surveyed the scene, could scarcely 
be other than those of pleasure and self-gratulation. He 
had opened the way into a vast country, and if he could 
have looked down through ages not yet come, but ra- 
pidly approaching, he might have seen the forests swept 
away, and instead of the smoke of the solitary hunter's 
fire curling above the trees, or the Indian's birch canoe 
alone upon the waters, the life and activity of a civilized 
empire spread over every hill and valley. Cartier named 
the mountain Mont-Real (Mount Royal), a name which 
is now extended to the island, and to the stone-built city 
which has long since superseded the wigwams of 

Cartier left Montreal, much to the regret of the friendly 
and hospitable natives, and dropping rapidly down the 
river, soon reached the place where he had left his pin- 
nace ; and shortly afterwards, the harbour in which his 

* See a map and description of the lakes in No. 334, vol. vi. of 
the ' Penny Magazine.' 

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two vessels were moored. It was now nearly the middle 
of October, and they judged it too late in the season to 
return to France. They therefore proposed to spend the 
winter here; and a miserable sojourn it was for them. 
In addition to the intense cold of a Canadian winter, the 
scurvy, a disease with which they were quite unac- 
quainted, broke out among the crew ; the only person 
who preserved his health being Cartier himself. Twenty- 
five of the best men died, and all the Test were greatly 
debilitated. This rendered it necessary for them to break 
up one of their ships, not having hands to man it. In 
the month of May they set sail down the river, carrying 
with them a native chief, whom they detained by force, 
but succeeded ultimately in reconciling to the voyage. 
Cartier was prompted to this act, by wishing to have 
something to exhibit in France, as a counterpoise to his 
report of the losses aud disasters of the winter. His 
general conduct towards the natives was marked by pru- 
dence and a kind spirit. 

Cartier arrived in France in 1536, when Francis I. 
was busily engaged in commencing his third war with 
Charles V. Little attention, therefore, could be paid by the 
government to projects for colonising New France. But 
a nobleman of Picardy, who had offered to attempt the 
settlement of the country, was made viceroy over all the 
lands and territories along the gulf and river of St. Law- 
rence.* He sailed in 1541, having Cartier as captain, 
general, and chief pilot of the expedition- A fort was 
built near the site of Quebec ; bat the colony failed 
through causes which have ruined many a similar attempt. 
The colonists quarrelled amongst themselves, and those 
who had come out with inordinate expectations soon be- 
came disgusted with realities. From that period, no other 
attempt was made to establish a permanent settlement 
till the beginning of the seventeenth century. The mer- 
chants, however, did not neglect the river ; the Fur trade 
began to grow ; and much inconvenience and loss were 
experienced from the want of a rallying-point. Settle- 
ments were formed in 1604, but these Were broken up 
in 1614, owing to a successful attack of the English un- 
der Sir Samuel Argal. Quebec, however, was founded 
by the merchants of Dieppe and Rouen, under the con- 
duct of Samuel de Champlain, in 1608 ; and though it 
surrendered to the English under Kirk in 1629 (it 
consisted then only of a few wooden houses), it was imme- 
diately restored to France, peace having been made be- 
tween the two countries in that year. Champlain, who 
was governor-general of Canada in the early part of the 
seventeenth century, may be regarded as the founder of 
the colony. He was an active, prudent man — one of 
those characters who are essential to the successful con- 
ducting of difficult enterprises. In 1663 Canada was 
made a Royal government, and the governors were there- 
after appointed by the kingf of France. The fur trade 
won became an important one when the French were set- 
tled in Canada; and Montreal grew out of it. At first 
no European ventured into the distant regions of the 
" far west." The Indians brought the skins to Montreal, 
where, for a considerable time, an annual fair was held ; 
the walls of the town, useless against cannon, were found 
necessary to protect the inhabitants from the assaults of 
the natives, and to enable them, during the fair, to shut 
out those whose excesses in fits of madness produced by 
rui a might have led to dangerous consequences. At 
last tome of the Canadian French ventured with the In- 
dians on their hunting expeditions. A race of hardy 
men was formed, who adopted much of the Indian mode 
oHife, and were known as Coureurs des Bois, or rangers 
of the woods. They ascended the Ottawa, crossed to 
Lake Nippissing, from thence to Lakes Huron and Su- 
perior, and onward to the Rainy Lake, Lake of the 

* See a.n extract from Turner's ' History of England,' in No. 
*H of the 4 Penny Magazine/ relative to the original Coloniza- 
too of Canada, 

Woods, Lake Winnipeg, &c. They found the Indian 
canoe the best for the peculiar navigation, and European 
ingenuity has not been able to improve upon it. It is 
made of the bark of the birch-tree, sewed upon a very 
slender frame-work of wood, and made water-tight by a 
coating of pitch or gum upon the seams. When the 
voyageurs came to an obstruction in the navigation, they 
lilted their light canoes, and carried them from one place 
to another — hence the meaning of the French word " part- 
age" as applied to the intervals between the navigable 
portions of lakes and rivers. 

In addition to the coureurs des bois, who spent the 
greater part of their lives in their toilsome business, till 
they became almost as wild as the Indians, another race 
of men was formed by the navigation of the rapids of the 
Cataraqui, as the St. Lawrence is termed between Mont- 
real and Lake Ontario. These are the Rapids of which 
Cartier was told by the natives, and which Moore has 
rendered familiar to every lover of song in the English 
language. The French, to command the lakes, had built 
a fort at the south-west extremity of Lake Ontario, close 
by the channel which connects Erie with the latter. This 
was named Fort Niagara.* The French batteaux — sub- 
stantially-constructed flat-bottomed boats, tapering to a 
point at each end — after gathering in their cargoes under 
protection of Fort Niagara, would sail across Lake On- 
tario, and then drop downwards to Montreal. From 
Lake Ontario to Prescott, a town on the St. Lawrence, or 
Cataraqui, a distance of about sixty-seven miles, the 
river is navigable by schooners and sloops ; but from 
Prescott to Montreal the rapids render it impossible to 
be passed by anything larger than a batteau or a Durham 
boat ; and even one of these, if the pilot amid the turmoil 
of the waters takes a wrong channel, will meet with cer- 
tain destruction. Yet a body of men was formed who 
became familiar with every rock, breaker, and channel in 
the river. These trained up their children in their pro- 
fession ; and to this day the voyageurs of Montreal are 
justly proud of the skill with which they can carry their 
batteaux through a succession of foaming rapids and eddies 
that seem to threaten death to all who attempt to pass. 
The Durham boats, which are usually manned by natives 
of the United States, have come in time to divide the 
danger and the profits of the navigation with the batteaux, 
the boats of the voyageurs, or Canadian French : but to 
the latter belongs the honour of commencing a trade, and 
rendering it safe by their steady skill, which seems at 
first sight almost as perilous as passing over the Falls of 

During the first half of the eighteenth century, the 
French and English divided nearly the entire continent of 
North America between them. The English were settled 
along the sea-coast of the Atlantic ; the French on the 
banks of the St. Lawrence. But that noble river gave 
the latter a spacious side entrance into the heart of the 
continent. The French commanded the lakes and were 
familiar with the navigation of the river ; and though 
many a swamp and forest intervened between the rival 
colonies of rival kingdoms, yet to secure themselves more 
effectually on the side next the English, they built the 
famous forts of Ticonderoga and Crown Point on the 
southern extremity of Lake Champlain. This lake di- 
vides for more than 100 miles the upper portion of the 
present state of New York from that of Vermont. The 
river Richelieu runs from it into the St. Lawrence, afford- 
ing a ready water communication between what was then 
British and French America. The reader need hardly 

* Niagara is "said to be an Iroquois word, signifying the thun- 
der of waters. The Indians pronounce it Niagara, but Americans 
and Canadians universally Niagara ; the latter accentuation is 
sanctioned by the author of « Letters of the Fudge Family,' who 
proposes in one of them 

' 'stead of pistol of dagger, a 

Desperate leap down the falls of Niagara/* —Dw***U Travctt, 

Digitized by Vj(J(JQIC 



[January 27, 

be told that the English viewed with a jealous eye the 
valuable possessions of the French in America; and 
when the two countries were at war, it was always con- 
sidered excellent policy to strike at each other through 
their respective colonies. Future ages may wonder at 
that strange madness which led men to carry the horrors 
of war into forests, where the toihvorn settler was strug- 
gling with Nature, and trying to reclaim a portion of her 
wildness. Yet so it was : the upper parts of Pennsylvania 
and New York, and the banks of Lake Champluin, be- 

came a border-land, the history of which is stained by 
many an atrocity. In those troublous times, the settler 
who had ventured to build his habitation at any distance 
from his fellows could scarcely ever lay his head on his' 
pillow in security. By midnight the whoop of the Indian 
might be heard ringing through the wood, and before 
morning fire might have devoured his house, and all the 
produce of his labours in the fields. The guilt of hound 
ing on the Indians lies on both the English and the 

[Falls of Montmorenci.] 

In 1159 it was resolved by the British government to 
make a vigorous and effectual effort to conquer Canada 
from the French. Three expeditions were prepared, 
which were all ultimately to unite. General Amherst 
was to march from New York, seize the forts of Ticon- 
deroga and Crown Point, and sailing along Lake Cham- 
plain, and down the Richelieu into the St. Lawrence, join 
General Wolfe, who by that time would have arrived 
before Quebec with a fleet and army. The third expedi- 
tion was to take Fort Niagara ; afterwards, sailing across 
Lake Ontario and down the Cataraqui, take Montreal; 
and then, if necessary, co-operate with Amherst and 
Wolfe. The plan was a bold one, but liable to many in- 
terruptions which could not be foreseen, or at least pre- 
vented. Each armament succeeded, in spite of many 
difficulties, in accomplishing its separate objects ; and as 
Wolfe was successful without the co-operation of the 
others, we may confine our attention to him alone. 

The fleet containing Wolfe and his army arrived at the 
island of Orleans without obstruction. Montcalm, the 
French commander-in-chief, a brave officer, immediately 
encamped with a numerous army, composed of regular 
troops, militia, and Indians, along the shore, down to the 
banks of the Montmorenci, a river which literally falls 
into the St. Lawrence about seven miles below Quebec. 
He rightly judged that Wolfe would try to land below, 
not above the city. Meantime fire-ships were sent float- 
ing down the river, and nothing could have saved the 
English fleet and transports, if the sailors, with daring 
courage, had not boarded the burning vessels, and tow- 
ing them on shore, left them to blaze away harmless till 
they burned to the water's edge. The attempt was made 
twice, and each time failed in the same manner. Wolfe 
landed, and tried to cross the Montmorenci above the 
Falls, in the face of the French army, but was driven back 
with a loss of 500 men and many brave officers. 

The defeat mortified the young hero so severely as to 

bring on a fever ; but though he was greatly reduced by 
his illness, his anxiety to retrieve his reverse doubtless 
strung his mind to that pitch of determination which 
enabled him to accomplish his object. The English took 
possession of Point Levi, opposite Quebec ; and the fleet 
sailed past the city without damage. Montcalm deemed 
himself perfectly secure above the city, never imagining 
that Wolfe would effect a landing. He therefore only 
placed a numerous line of sentinels along the summit of 
the steep and rocky banks. Time was now becoming 
precious to Wolfe ; it was the beginning of the month 
of September, and a Canadian winter was not far distant. 
After anxious searching, he selected a little indentation 
of the bank, rather more than a mile above the city, still 
called Wolfe's Cave. Here he proposed to land the troops 
in silence and secrecy during the night, and making them 
clamber up a narrow path, that at present, though well- 
beaten, is difficult of ascent in broad daylight, to form 
them in order of battle on the table-land above, called the 
Plains of Abraham. On the 13th of September, an hour 
after midnight, the first division of the troops landed, one 
of the first being Wolfe himself. " I scarcely think," he 
whispered to an officer near him, " that there is any pos- 
sibility of getting up, but you must do your endeavour." 
The Highlanders and light infantry scaled the path, dis- 
lodged a Serjeant's guard at the top, and the news was 
carried to the astonished Montcalm, that the English were 
on the Plains of Abraham. 

He brought down his army, and the battle began about 
nine in the morning. Shortly after its commencement, 
Wolf was shot in the wrist ; he wrapped a handkerchief 
round it, and continued giving orders. Advancing at the 
head of the grenadiers, with their bayonets fixed, another 
shot entered his breast. He leaned upon an officer, who 
sat down for the purpose, and death was stealing over 
him. A cry of "They run, they run!" startled him : 
44 Who run?". he asked with eagerness. "The French.'* 

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"What ! do they run already ? — then I die happy." He 
expired almost immediately afterwards. 

Montcalm was mortally wounded by the only gun 
which the English had been able to drag up the heights : 
he died in Quebec next day. Quebec capitulated on the 
17th; and the English fleet left the river, a strong gar- 
rison being placed in the city. During the winter the 
garrison suffered severely frorn the scurvy ; and in the 
spring of 1760, the French came down from Montreal, 
and occupied the Plains of Abraham. General Murray 
risked an engagement, was defeated, and driven into Que- 
bec. But for the opportune arrival of an English fleet 
in the river, the city might have been re-occupied by its 
original owners, and Wolfe's victory rendered what bat- 
tles often are — a mere waste of human life. 

All Canada surrendered in 1760, the inhabitants qui- 
etly taking the oath of allegiance to their conquerors, so 
that the province was not devastated by a prolonged re- 
sistance. It was ceded to Britain in full sovereignty by 
the treaty of Paris, in 1763. 

A vast American territory now belonged to Great Bri- 
tain. Her colonies occupied the greater portion of the 
sea-coast of what is now the United States ; and having, 
by the possession of Canada, the unrestricted possession 
of the interior, an end was put to that cruel border strife 
which had retarded the settlement of the country. The 
tide of emigration began to flow from the Atlantic to- 
wards the lakes ; the fur trade was extended ; and the 
voyaneurs who threaded the rapids were content to trans- 
fer tneir skill to the service of those whose language they 
did not understand, and would not learn. The Canadian 
French found themselves as comfortable under British as 
under French dominion ; and being undisturbed in their 
lawB, usages, and religion, they could scarcely complain, 
and they did not. ** It is questionable," says Professor 
Silliman, a name known in Europe as well as in the United 
States, " whether any conquered country was ever better 
treated by its conquerors. They were left in complete 
possession of their religion, and of the revenues to sup- 
port it , of their property, laws, customs, and manners ; 
and even the very governing and defending their country 
is almost without expense to them. It is doubtful whe- 
ther our own favoured communities are politically more 

The Revolution which ended in the independence of 
the United States hastened the fermentation of the pub- 
lic mind in France : but the Canadian French were be- 
yond the influence of the " seething cauldron " at work 
in the land of their fathers. They jogged on contentedly 
in their old ways ; kind-hearted, simple, averse to change, 
they opened their door and spread their table to the Eng- 
lish traveller, while they refused to adopt his customs, or 
to understand more of his Bpeech than to enable them, 
with polite alacrity, to supply his wants. "If you ask 
the people," says Weld, who travelled in Canada in 1 796, 
" why they don't let a little fresh air into their houses, 
their constant answer is, as it is to all questions of a si- 
milar tendency, ' Ce n'est pas la maniere des habitans ;' 
it is not the custom of the people of the country." 

No wonder, therefore, that the Canadian French did 
not sympathise with the struggle going on in the Atlantic 
British Colonies, which ended in the establishment of 
the great republic of the United States. Not being able 
to induce the population to join in the struggle, an at- 
tempt was made to conquer the country. Montgomery, 
an American officer, in 1775, entered Canada and took 
Montreal ; and Arnold, another republican leader, by an 
extraordinary march across the country from New Eng- 
land, appeared with all the suddenness of surprise on 
Point Levi, opposite Quebec. He crossed the river, but 
was repulsed in his attack on the city, and he retired to 
the Plains of Abraham. Here Montgomery joined him ; 
and the two commanders having no artillery to make a 
* ' Tow Utwm£Urtfot4 *&d Quebec, ia 182C 

breach in the walls, determined to try to take the city by 
storm. It was useless; Montgomery fell, and Arnold 
was wounded ; and though the latter remained in the 
country during the winter, the Americaus were driven 
from Canada in the following year. 

The close of the war rendered it necessary to draw a 
boundary-line between the United States and Canada. 
The treaty of 1783 drew the line through the middle of 
the lakes and the Cataraqui (or St. Lawrence) to the 
45th degree of north latitude. This was distinct enough, 
though in many cases there were islands in positions 
which rendered it a doubtful matter to whom they be- 
longed. The boundary-line was then to follow the course 
of the parallel of latitude from the river, across the upper 
end of the states of New York and Vermont, to the head 
of Connecticut river ; and from thence the boundary was 
to be the high lands which divided the rivers that fall 
into the Atlantic from those that fall into the St. Law- 
rence. This was a boundary-line easier to be laid down 
on a map than to be traced through forests and swamps. 
The state of Maine, the most easterly of the United 
States, claims a larger portion of Canada than the British 
government have been willing to concede. The river St. 
John, which rises in Lower Canada, runs through New 
Brunswick, and falls into the Bay of Fundy. " The 
whole of the country," says the ' Penny Cyclopaedia,' 
" drained by the St. John is claimed by the Americau 
government, according to the vague expressions in the 
treaty of 1783, by which the boundary-line between the 
United States and Great Britain was determined. The 
award given by the king of the Netherlands as mediator 
has not been adopted by either party. Meanwhile Eng- 
lish settlements have been formed on both banks of the 
St. John up to its confluence with the Madawaska, and 
along the banks of the last-mentioned river, and of the 
lake of Temiscouata, which is the largest in this portion 
of Canada, extending in length twenty -two miles, and 
varying in breadth from a half to two and a half miles. 
The road by which Canada communicates with New 
Brunswick and Nova Scotia by land passes through 
these settlements." We may add, that a projected rail- 
road from St. Andrew's, in the Bay of Fundy, to Quebec, 
a distance of nearly 200 miles, but which, to persons 
going from Europe to the latter city, and who would pre- 
fer the railroad to. the St. Lawrence, would save a voyage 
of 1200 miles, has been stopped till the question is set- 
tled, on account of the line running through a portion of 
the disputed territory. 

After the conquest of Canada the affairs of the province 
were under the management of the governor, who, in 
1774, obtained a legislative council to assist him. " In 
1791 the form of government was again altered ; the exe- 
cutive power was continued in the governor appointed by 
the crown, and two legislative chambers were formed ; 
the members of the council or upper chamber were ap- 
pointed by the king for life, and the lower chamber or 
assembly was composed of persons elected every four 
years by the proprietors of the soil. The legislative 
council, which was originally composed of 15 members, 
now consists of nearly double that number ; and the 
assembly has had its numbers augmented from time to 
time, owing to the increasing extent of the settlement, 
until at present the house contains 83 members. 
• " Another body, to which the name of Executive Council 
has been given, and which is composed of 1 5 members 
appointed by the crown, acts as the privy-council of the 
governor, and in that capacity exercises a direction over 
the internal affairs of the province." 

After the independence of the United States was ac- 
knowledged, the tide of emigration, which had been 
checked oy the war, once more set in with vigour. The 
clashing of the interests of the different classes of sub- 
jects, produced by the increase of emigration, made itself 
, manifest in the very first provincial assembly that was 

Digitized by 




[January 27, 

held; the came* are thus described by Weld, writing in 
1797 :— 

" About five-sixths of the inhabitants of Lower Ca- 
nada are of French extraction, the bulk of whom are 
peasants, living upon the lands of the seigniors. Amongst 
the English inhabitants devoted to agriculture, but few, 
however, are to be found occupying land under seigniors, 
notwithstanding that several of the seigniories have fallen 
into the hands of Englishmen ; the great majority of 
them hold the lands which they cultivate by virtue of 
certificates from the governor, and these people, for the 
most part, reside in the western parts of the province, 
bordering upon the upper parts of the river St. Lawrence. 

" The seigniors, both French and English, live in a 
plain simple style ; for although the seigniories in gene- 
ral are extensive, but few of them afford a very large in- 
come to the proprietors. 

" The revenues of a seigniory arise from certain fines 
called lods and vents (lods et venies, fines of alienation) 
which are paid by vassals on the alienation of property, 
as when a farm, or any part of it, is divided by a vassal, 
during his lifetime, amongst his sons, or when any other 
than the immediate issue of a vassal succeeds to his 
estate, &c. The revenues arise also from certain fines 
paid on the granting of fresh lands to the vassals, and 
from the profits of the mills of the seignior, to which the 
vassals are bound to send all their corn to be ground. 

" This last obligation is sometimes extremely irksome 
to the vassal, when, for instance, on a large seigniory 
there is not more than one mill : for although it should 
be ten miles distant from his habitation, and he could 
get his corn ground on better terms close to his own 
door, yet he cannot send it to any other mill than that be- 
longing to the seignior, under a heavy penalty. 

" The extent of seigniorial rights in Canada, particu- 
cularly in what relates to the levying of the lods and 
vents, seems to be by no means clearly ascertained, so 
that where the seignior happens to be a man of a rapa- 
cious disposition, the vassal is sometimes compelled to pay 
fines, which, in strict justice, perhaps, ought not to be 
demanded. In the first provincial assembly that was 
called, this business was brought forward, and the equity 
and policy were strongly urged by some of the English 
members that possessed considerable abilities, of having 
proper bounds fixed to the power of the seigniors, and of 
having all the fines and services due from their vassals 
accurately ascertained and made generally known ; but 
the French members, a great number of whom were 
themselves seigniors, being strongly attached to old ha- 
bits, and thinking that it was conducive to their interest 
fikat their authority should still continue undefined, op- 
posed the measure with great warmth, and nothing was 

A traveller, who visited the country forty years ago, 
has thus described to us the root of the quarrel now ex- 
isting ; it manifested itself on the very first occasion it 
could do so, in the proper place. The continental war, 
which did not terminate till the overthrow of Napoleon, 
once more checked emigration to Canada ; and while the 
people of the United States were actively engaged in car- 
rying up their settlements to the very banks of the St. Law- 
rence, the Canadians were in a great measure undisturbed, 
pursuing their avocations in their old way, without the irri- 
tating pressure of new people with new opinions. It was 
for this reason that when the war between Great Britain 
and the United States broke out in 1812, the Canadians 
did not respond to the call which was made upon them to 
take part against England. The war raged along the 
frontiers of Upper Canada and on the lakes ; the blood 
that was shed produced no other result than convincing 
two great nations of the folly of their contentions. Peace 
was established in 1815 ; and shortly afterwards followed 
that tremendous battle which gave peace to Europe. 
Once more the flood of emigration rolled on Canada ; | 

and numerous travellers who hastened to the country held 
up their hands, and wondered at the extraordinary con- 
trasts presented on either side of the St. Lawrence. Mr. 
Duncan, who visited America in 1818 and 1819, speak- 
ing of the Hudson and the St. Lawrence, says, " It is 
impossible not to remark, that the banks of the two rivers 
are peopled by an essentially different race of men : the 
one of habits altogether hereditary and monotonous, con- 
tent to pace along in the footsteps of their forefathers ; the 
other restless and adventurous almost to a proverb, buy- 
ing and selling, shipping and importing, settling and 
emigrating, as if quicksilver instead of blood were dancing 
in their veins." 

All this could not be without its effect. A new gene- 
ration of Canadian French have been springing up, who, 
with the feeling of offended pride at implied inferiority, 
have also been gradually though slowly imbibing a por- 
tion of the activity and new habits which they saw daily 
around them. In 1817, the commercial capital of 
Lower Canada, Montreal, could not boast of the pos- 
session of a single bank; it has now four. In 1818, 
a traveller alleged as a proof of Canadian poverty and 
supineness, that a canal much wanted, to enable boats to 
avoid rapids in the channel alongside of the Llaud of 
Montreal, had not been made : he said, " Were a cairnl 
cut from Montreal to La Chine, a distance of only nine 
miles, those troublesome rapids which intervene would be 
avoided, and the necessity superseded which at present 
exists of transporting so far by land all the merchandise 
which goes up the country. Such a canal has been 
talked of for about twenty years ; and some time ago, 
25,000/. was voted for it by the provincial legislature. 
Farther than this it has not yet advanced. In the mean- 
time, these fidgetty Yankees are pushing vigorously for- 
ward their canal of 364 miles between Lake Erie and 
the Hudson, and the other of sixty between the Hudson 
and Lake Champlain ; and possibly, when they have the 
whole finished, they may take a fancy to cross the St 
Lawrence, and, in a mere frolic, turn up the nine miles 
between Montreal and La Chine — it will hardly be a 
fortnight's work for them." The canal was made a few 
years afterwards by the Canadians, at an expense of about 
100,000/. Seventeen years ago, there was no mode of 
communication between the island of Montreal and the 
southern bank of the St. Lawrence, except by batteaux or 
canoes ; accidents frequently occurred, and were attended 
with the loss of many lives. Now, several steamers ply regu- 
larly between Montreal and La Prairie, a distance of nine 
miles. Hitherto, the road between La Prairie and St. 
John's, a much-frequented tract, forming a portion of 
the line of communication between Montreal and New 
York, was most wretched : a railroad has just been finished , 
the distance fifteen miles, at a cost of about 30,000/. The 
river Richelieu, the water medium of communication be- 
tween the United States and the St. Lawrence, is ob- 
structed on a part of its course by rapids : a canal is on 
the eve of completion, which will enable vessels to avoid 
those rapids j its length is about ten miles, and its ex- 
pense, defrayed from the provincial revenue, about 80 flOOl 
Improvements in the river Richelieu, a consequence of 
the making of the canal, will add several thousand pounds 
to the expense. A bridge is about to be b lilt from the 
island of Montreal to the north bank of the St. Lawrence. 
The legislature has provided for the improvement (by a 
steam dredging-machine) of Lake St. Peter — that en- 
largement of the St. Lawrence, whose shoals have teased 
large vessels from the days of Jacques Carrier to the 
present. In 1832, two-thirds of the revenue were voted 
for canals, roads, and other public works ; and many 
other projects of improvement are in agitation. 

Again : — in 1820, with the exception of Seminaries in 
Quebec and Montreal, there scarcely existed a single school 
in which the French Canadians -could be taught the sim^ 
plest elements of education* One of the first banking 

Digitized by VjOOQIC 




Companies established in Montreal engraved on the mar- 
gins of their notes rows of dollars, corresponding in num- 
ber with the amount of each note, in order to assist those 
who could not read, and whose strong attachment to me- 
tallic money made them very jealous of a paper currency. 
Now schools are springing up in the villages, and the 
legislature has, in successive years, voted large sums to 
assist education. In 1818 the literary character of 
Montreal was very low, only one bookseller's shop pos- 
sessing anything like a collection of English literature : 
now there is an Agricultural Society, and a Literary 
Institution, with a house, and a handsome library. 
In 1836 a bill was passed, granting 3000/. to esta- 
blish Normal schools at Quebec and Montreal, on 
the plan of the Prussian and French ; this was in ad- 
dition to 8000/. for the support of schools generally. 
Mr. William Evans, a British settler, the secretary of 
the Montreal Agricultural Society, published, in 1835, a 
treatise on agriculture: the legislature, in 1836, passed 
a bill, granting a sum of money to the intelligent author, 
to enable him to translate his book into French, of which 
a thousand copies were to be distributed through the pro- 
vince by the school visitors. Such are the efforts now 
making : if civil war does not destroy the good work, fu- 
ture travellers will not have to implore the Canadians not 
to yoke their oxen by the horns, nor to throw their manure 
into the river. 

Having traced the origin of the disputes between the 
British government and its Canadian French subjects, we 
may now give a history of them from the time when 
the quarrel distinctly manifested itself in warfare be- 
tween the House of Assembly, composed of representa- 
tives of the people, and the Executive government in 
Lower Canada. We shall endeavour to do this with 
perfect impartiality. The following general summary 
of the different matters in dispute is taken from the 
article Canada, in the * Penny Cyclopaedia,' and was 
written in 1836 : — 

" From the year 1820 to the present time, dissensions 
have existed between the House of Assembly of Lower 
Canada and the Executive government, which, with some 
intermissions, have been continually increasing in violence 
until, to use the words of Lord Glenelg, the colonial secre- 
tary of state, * they have at length advanced to such a 
height as not only to invade the peace of society, but 
nearly to paralyse the activity of the Executive govern- 
ment, threatening with the most fatal confusion a coun- 
try exempt, beyond the common lot of nations, from the 
influence of the ordinary causes of social evil.* One of 
the main sources of this disunion is the claim of the House 
of Assembly, as representatives of the people of Lower 
Canada, to the right of appropriating to the public- service, 
according to their own discretion, the whole of the reve- 
nues of the crown accruing within the province. This 
claim extends ' to the proceeds of all parliamentary and 
provincial statutes, whatever may have been the original 
conditions of these grants ; to the funds drawn from the 
sale of timber and of the waste lands of the crown ; to all 
fines and forfeitures, and to the income derived from the 
seigneurial rights inherited by the King from his Royal 

u The House of Assembly claims further the right to 
regulate the settlement and alienation of the wild lands 
within the colony. It complains of the constitution and 
mode of appointing the Legislative Council, a body which 
Jias hitherto possessed a co-ordinate right of legislation 
with the representatives of the people, and the members 
of which have invariably been nominated by the Execu- 
tive government, which is said to have appointed to seats 
b the council a preponderating number of persons who 
are under the immediate control or influence of the go- 
vernment. Instead of a second legislative chamber thus 
constituted, and which is said to be, in effect, the execu- 
tive power under a different name, the House ©f Assem- 

bly requires that the members of the Legislative Council 
should be chosen by the people and declares, ' that all re- 
medial measures will be futile and unsatisfactory which 
should stop short of rendering the seats in the Legislative 
Council dependent on a popular election.' On this sub- 
ject the Assembly has proposed that public conventions, 
or, as they are termed, primary meetings, shall be* held 
in every part of the province, in which meetings the pro- 
posed alteration shall be discussed by the people at 

" Complaint is also made of the composition of the 
Executive Council. It is maintained, that ' the members 
of that body are incompetent to the proper performance 
of the judicial duty with which they are charged, and 
unfit to act as the confidential advisers of the go- 
vernor in their more appropriate office of aiding in 
the execution of his administrative authority.' The 
evil consequences of this unfitness are said to have been 
* the habit of appealing with inconvenient frequency to 
the secretary of state, on many questions which might 
more advantageously have been disposed of in the pro- 
vince itself ; thus causing much needless delay in the de- 
spatch of public business, and bringing the supreme Exe- 
cutive authority into needless collision with individuals 
and with the two houses of legislature.' 

" One source of disagreement in the colony arises from 
the fact of the population being divided into two distinot 
races. By far the most numerous of these races consists 
of the descendants of the French colonists, who, though 
they have now lived for more than three-quarters of a 
century under the British government, still consider them- 
selves as having interests different from those of the more 
recent English settlers, and it is probable that this feel- 
ing may have been fostered by the difference in the 
tenures by which their property is held ; the estates or 
seigneuries of the French Canadians being fiefs, while the 
townships of the English settlers are granted in free 
socage. Under the principle adopted in 1792 for regu- 
lating the return of members to the provincial parliament, 
the numerical superiority of the French Canadians has 
insured them a considerable majority in the House of 
Assembly ; while, on the other hand, the Legislative Coun- 
cil being nominated by the Government, a majority of its 
members has consisted of persons attached to the English 
party. The consequence has been that the two chambers 
have been frequently in a state of opposition to each 
other, and various important bills which from time to 
time have been passed in the one house have been nega- 
tived in the other. It is with a view to remedy this evil 
that the House of Assembly insists so firmly upon an 
alteration in the constitution of the Legislative Council. 
The Canadians further urge that the province contains no 
aristocracy, the members of which by their great pos- 
sessions and influence command respect and deference 
from other classes ; and that this state of society being 
similar to that existing in the United States, the consti- 
tution of the Legislative Council should be assimilated to 
that of the American Senate. 

" Among other causes of dissatisfaction are the assump- 
tion on the part of the crown of the right to administer 
certain estates formerly held by the order of Jesuits, and 
the interposition of the Imperial Parliament in the esta- 
blishment of the North American Land Company, which 
is felt as * an unnecessary interference with the authority 
of the local legislature over the internal affairs of the pro- 

" For the investigation of these various grievances, a 
select committee of the House of Commons was appointed 
in 1828. Having examined various persons connected 
with the colony, this committee presented a report, in 
which various measures of a conciliatory nature were re- 
commended ; and it appears from the report of another 
committee, appointed in 1834 to inquire how far these 
recommendations had been carried into effect, that consi 

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32 THE PENNY MAGAZINE [January 27, 1838. 

[Map of Canada.] 
[To be concluded in the Supplement, No. 374.] 

•,• The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge it at 59, Lincoln^ Inn Field*. 


Printed by William Clowu and Sons, Stamford Street. 

Digitized by 


montbls Smppltmmt of 



Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 


December 31, 1837, to January 31, 1838. 



•Bear-Hunting ny the Chippeway Indians.) 

After tne transmission of this report from the colony a 
change was made in the appointment of the lieutenant- 
pjvernor. Sir John Colborne returned to Europe, and 
**s succeeded in his office hy Sir Francis Head, who 
carried with him instructions of a conciliatory nature. 
* The progress of reconciliation was not however very 
fctttfectory, and ultimately Sir Francis Head dissolved 
the House of Assembly. In the general election which 
followed, a number of the old members were rejected. 
The new house evinced a decided disposition towards re- 
conciliatioa; and the. discontents of the Upper province 
*ppeared in a great measure to be composed. The re- 
tort insurrection having been so easily put down, by the 
•distance of volunteers, distinctly proves that the discon- 
ten kd in Upper Canada are a minority. In Lower 
Canada the majority, as far as respects numbers, are dis- 
sented — that majority consisting nearly exclusively of 
French Canadians. This latter fact is not mentioned 
*>ui a view to create a spirit of distinction : for the Ca- 
fcdian French are our fellow-subjects, and have a right 
Vol. VII. 

to ail the consideration and privileges of subjects while 
they remain under the British government. But it is 
important to be borne in mind, with the view of judging 
the causes of quarrel impartially, that the Canadian 
French have been educated with prejudices and feeiings 
very different from those of the more enterprising natives 
of the United States and of Great Britain ; and though 
a kind of new blood has been thrown into the rising ge- 
neration, and new habits and customs are growing up 
amongst them, still much of the existing umbrage is con- 
nected with that irritated pride which thinks itself dis- 
turbed and invaded, as wed as despised, by a stranger. 
Could this feeling be removed, as well as all just causes 
of complaint, Peace and Happiness might reign through 
British America. The measures of the British govern- 
ment are calculated to justify the expression of this hope 
It has been officially announced that Earl Durham is 
about to proceed to Canada as " Governor-Genera*, Vice- 
Admiral, and Captain-General" of the British North 
American colonies, as well as " High Commissioner for 

Digitized by VjOOQlC 



[January 21, 

the adjustment of certain important affairs affecting the 
provinces of Lower and Upper Canada." 

If the reader look over a map of North America, he 
will easily understand the relative positions of the British 
Colonies and the United States. He will see that the 
Continent from north to south gradually slopes from east 
to west. By this inclination 01 the land, the distance be- 
tween the sea-coast of the United States and Canada 
gradually becomes greater as we pass from north to south. 
Thus, the state of Maine, the most easterly of the States, 
and which adjoins the British Colony of New Brunswick, 
occupies the country between the Atlantic and Lower 
Canada : a straight line drawn from its coast to Quebec 
measures about 200 miles. Moving south-west, the state 
of New York will be seen to be triangularly-shaped, hav- 
ing its apex at the city of New York, and its base along the 
shores of Lakes Erie and Ontario, and the River St. Law- 
rence : a straight line drawn from the city of New York 
to the shores of Ontario, or the St. Lawrence, measures 
about 250 miles. But farther south, the distance between 
the sea-coast of the United States and Canada becomes 
still greater, and three and four States are found to occupy 
the intervening portions of ground. Thus, the River 
Mississippi, whose sources are parallel with Lake Supe- 
rior, and about a hundred miles west of it, flows south- 
ward in nearly as straight a line as a river can be sup- 
posed to run, and yet it has a course of 2500 miles 
before it reaches the Gulf of Mexico. A straight line 
drawn from the Gulf of Mexico, below New Orleans, to 
the centre of Lake Superior, measures about 1300 miles : 
a similar line drawn from the city of New York to the 
same point in Lake Superior measures about 800 miles. 

Upper and Lower Canada, then, may be described as 
lying all along the back or upper portion of the United 
States — being on the north, and covering, from east to 
west, its extended territory. Canada, therefore, is en- 
tirely inland, the foreground being occupied, with the 
slight exception of that portion of Lower Canada on each 
side of the mouth of the St. Lawrence. The eastern por- 
tion of the Continent is occupied by the province of New 
Brunswick and the hatchet -shaped peninsula of Nova 
Scotia : the only British colonies which may be said to 
share with the United States the sea- coast of the Northern 
Atlantic Ocean. 

Lower Canada extends on tta southern bank of the St. 
Lawrence — that is, on the side adjoining the United 
States — from the peninsula of Gaspe, at the mouth of 
the river, to the point where the 45° of north latitude 
strikes the St. Lawrenc*, or Cataraqui, about fifty-five 
miles above Montreal, It is this southern side of the 
St. Lawrence which is most thickly inhabited. On the 
north bank of the St. Lawrence, Lower Canada extends 
to Labrador and to the Hudson's Bay boundaries, which 
are not distinctly known. The northern banks are but 
thinly settled — scarcely settled at all— ^till we arrive near 
to Quebec : from that city up to the boundary-line be- 
tween Upper and Lower Canada the settlers are more 
numerous, but not so numerous as those on the southern 

After all, the population of Lower Canada is compara- 
tively very small. A country five times the size of Eng- 
land, and which has been colonised for two centuries, 
contains about a third of the population of London. 
About one-twentieth of the land is occupied, and about 
one-fiftieth in cultivation. The southern bank of the St. 
Lawrence, from about 200 miles below Quebec, up to the 
boundary-line (the 45th parallel of latitude), haf, a pic- 
turesque appearance, from the series of teleg/aph sta- 
tions, churches with their tin-covered steeple^ villages, 
and farm-houses, whose coating of white-was ii contrasts 
strongly with the dark forests which crown the hills in 
the buck-ground. But the space between this belt of po- 
pulation and the United States is still nearly a wilder- 
ness, while the inhabitants of those States which adjoin 

Canada are pushing tineir settlements close to the boun- 
dary-line. Giving up a large portion of the northern part 
of Lower Canada as incapable of cultivation, still the 

Province could with ease maintain an agricultural popu- 
ition of 10,000,000. Altogether, taking in Quebec and 
Montreal, the population is not more than 600,000. The 
whole province has not, probably, two inhabitants to the 
square mile ; the southern bank of the St. Lawrence not 
more than four. The state of Maine has about twelve to 
the square mile ; those of New Hampshire and Vermont 
twenty-eight, and New York about forty. Vermont and 
the north-eastern portion of the state of New York adjoin 
the portion of Lower Canada which is most thickly set- 

Upper Canada lies on the northern bank of the Cataraqui, 
or St. Lawrence, and along the northern shores of the 
lakes — the river and the lakes divide it from New York, 
a small portion of Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Michigan. Its 
northern boundaries stretch away towards Hudson's Bay, 
and the north generally ; the boundary-line is not known, 
but it is usual to consider all the countries north of the 
great lakes, which are drained by the rivers falling into 
them, or into the St. Lawrence, as belonging to Canada, 
while those which are drained by rivers falling into Hud- 
son's Bay, or into the Atlantic, are considered as belong- 
ing to other British territories. To divide Upper from 
Lower Canada, an artificial line is drawn from the north 
bank of the St. Lawrence, about fifty-five miles above 
Montreal, up to the Ottawa River, whose course then 
forms a natural boundary between the two provinces. 

Upper Canada has only been begun to be settled within 
comparatively recent years. In 1811, it contained about 
10,000 inhabitants ; it has now nearly 400,000. It is 
nearly three times the size of England. Its population 
may oe reckoned about four to the square mile. Its su- 
perficies presents a much more level surface than that 
of Lower Canada — the features of the latter province, es- 

Secially on the north, are those of the " mountain and the 
ood," on the most magnificent scale. The boundary- 
line between the United States and Upper Canada runs 
through the centre of the lakes, so that the navigation of 
those inland seas is divided between both. 

" The more inhabited parts of the Canadas he between 
43° and 48° N. kt., but the climate resembles that of the 
north of Germany and the centre of Russia. The greatest 
part of the country is covered with snow from two to four 
or even five months, and most of the rivers with ice for 
nearly the same time. The frost is sometimes so intense 
that die thermometer descends to 20° below zero of Fah- 
renheit, and even more. The heat in summer is very 
great; the thermometer rises every year to 100° and 
higher. The mean heat in July varies from 60° to 15°. 
The prevailing winds are from S.W., N.E., and N.W. 
The S.W. wind is the most frequent, but generally mo- 
derate and accompanied by clear skies; the N.E. brings 
continual rains in summer and snow in winter ; the N . W. 
is dry, and attended with a great degree of cold. Fogs 
are almost unknown. Thunder-storms are frequent, and 
often cause great damage. The aurora boreahs is more 
frequently seen than in Europe, and has a much greater 
degree of brilliancy. On the great lakes of Upper Canada 
water-spouts are sometimes formed. 

" The grains cultivated in Canada are wheat, barley, rye, 
Indian corn, oats, and buck-wheat. Nearly all the ve- 
getables grown in England can be raised. Fruits do not 
grow equally well in all districts. At Quebec apples and 
pears are abundant, hut the peach and the grape do not 
succeed. At Montreal grapes and peaches ripen ; but on 
Lake Erie and in the west districts of Upper Canada, the 
peach, the nectarine, and the grape, with the other more 
common fruits, are produced in the greatest perfection. 
Hemp, flax, and tobacco are cultivated in many districts. 
The extensive forests which still cover by far the greatest 
part of the country yield annually a great quantity of 

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timber. Sugar is made from the maple-tree, and the 
spruce-fir is used for making spruce-beer. 

" The domestic animals are horses, cattle, sheep, and 
swine. The wild animals are deer, moose-deer, bears, 
wolves, wolverines, foxes, wild cats, beavers, otters, &c. 
Fish is abundant in the numerous lakes ; cod is taken in 
great quantities in the Bay of Chaleurs, and on some of 
roe neighbouring banks. The herring and salmon fish- 
eries are also considerable. The humming-bird appears 
in Canada ; and the rattlesnake is not uncommon. 

" Canada is not rich in minerals, yet iron is found in 
many places, and worked in a few. There are also lead, 
copper, coals, salt, and brimstone ; and also some traces 
of silver ore. 

" The inhabitants consist of aborigines and European 
settlers and their descendants. The aborigines are a very 
small part of the population ; they belong to two nations, 
the Chippeways, and Mohawks. The tribes of the Chippe- 
ways are dispersed over the countries bordering on Lakes 
Superior and Huron, and in Upper Canada. The most 
numerous of their tribes are the Algonquins, who inhabit 
the country between Lake Superior and the upper course of 
the Ottawa. The tribes of the Mohawks or Iroquois live 
in the countries along the St. Lawrence and between the 
Lakes Ontario, Erie, and Huron. A few of them have 
settled in villages, and embraced Christianity. The rest 
are hunters, without fixed abodes. Their number is ra- 
pidly decreasing, especially in the neighbourhood of the 
European settlements. 

" The Europeans are partly English or their descend- 
ants, and partly of French origin. The French are 
chiefly the descendants of Frenchmen settled in Canada 
heibre the year 1759, and still form the majority of the 
population in Lower Canada, especially to the south of the 
St. Lawrence, where they altogether occupy some coun- 
ties. On the north side of the river, the number of Eng- 
lish is probably equal, if not greater. Upper Canada is 
inhabited by the English, Scotch, and Irish, the number 
of French families being small, and almost entirely limited 
to the country along the Detroit river. The Canadians of 
French origin have preserved their native language, but 
they generally speak it incorrectly, and with some inter- 
mixture of English words. They are Roman Catholics, 
and distinguished from the English in usages and man- 
ners. They have also preservea their own code of laws, 
which is that which was in use in the times of the antient 
French monarchy, and is called coutumes de Paris. 99 * 

Such is a general description of the country : we may 
now enter into more minute details. 

The province of Lower Canada is divided into three 
chief districts — Quebec, Montreal, and Three Rivers ; 
and two inferior districts — Gaspe* and St. Francis. These 
district* are subdivided as under : — 

Counties. Seigniories. Fiefs. Townships. 

Quebec district 





Montreal „ 





Three Rivers „ 





Gaspe' t „ 





40 175 33 160 

The inferior district of St. Francis contains 39 town- 
ships, which are included above with the towuships of 
Montrea^and Three Rivers. 

In this extent of country there are not less than sixty 
considerable rivers, besides many of smaller size, and 
upwards of seventy lakes, large and small, the greater 
portion of which are abundantly stocked with fish. Mr. 
Evans, the author of the treatise on agriculture, which 
the legislature has adopted for circulation amongst the 
rural population, says, in an account of Qanada, printed 
at Montreal in 1836, that, " In Lower Canada tjie towns 
*„' Penny Cydofadi* ; ' fcftklt Ca*a»a. 

and villages are not numerous or extensive. There are 
scarcely any manufactures except the tanning of leather 
carried on in the villages. Most of the woollen and 
linen manufactures are confined to the farmers' houses. 
The town or borough of Three Rivers is next in extent 
to Montreal and Quebec \ it has about 600 houses, and 
5000 inhabitants ; it returns two members to the pro- 
vincial parliament. The town of Sorel, or William 
Henry, has about 250 houses, and perhaps 1200 inha- 
bitants, and returns one member to parliament. The 
town of St. John's, on the Richelieu, has 300 houses, 
and near 2000 inhabitants. This small town is very 
likely to increase and improve rapidly, when the railroad 
from that place to La Prairie is m operation. It is the 
great thoroughfare between Canada and the United 
States. The small town of Aubegny, opposite Quebec, 
does not contain above 100 houses. These are the only 
places that are considered to deserve the name of towns 
at present. There are about 130 villages, containing, 
perhaps, 6100 houses ; of these villages there are in the 
district of Montreal 76, Three Rivers 19, Quebec 32, 
and Gaspe' 3. In each of these villages there is suie to 
be a handsome church, and in some more than one, 
where there are Protestant congregations. There are 
post-offices established in 128 towns and villages ; and 
the total number of houses in Lower Canada is about 

The small district of Gaspe* occupies the promontory 
or peninsula of that name. It is that portion of the 
southern bank of the St. Lawrence which stretches into 
the Gulf; it is bounded on the south-east by New 
Brunswick. The district of Quebec is very extensive, 

3 1 ing on both sides of the St. Lawrence above and below 
uebec. There is scarcely a settlement on the north 
bank below the river Saguenay ; and the interior of the 
country is very little known. At the mouth of the 
Saguenay is the fishing-village of Tadoussac ; and from 
thence to Quebec, a distance of abaut 100 miles, the 
country gradually assumes an inhabited appearance. 
The island of Orleans is well cultivated, and has a 
population of about 5000. 

We have already mentioned that the southern side of 
the St. Lawrence, below Quebec, is more populous than 
the northern, and that it has a very picturesque appear- 
ance. The district of Quebec is bounded on the south 
by the State of Maine. 

The country around Quebec is very well occupied. 
About seven miles below the city, on the same side (the 
north), are the Falls of Montmorenci, a view of which is 
given in p. 28 ; and about seven miles above Quebec, 
on the opposite side (the south), are the Falls of the 
Chaudiere, a river which issues from Lake Megantic, 
near the boundary line between Canada and the United 
States. " The Chaudiere," says Professor Silliman, " is 
a river of considerable magnitude, but owing to its 
numerous rapids, falls, and various obstructions, it is 
scarcely navigable even for canoes. The banks are in 
general high, rocky, and steep. • Salient points of rock 
at the Falls narrow the river so much that its breadth is 
not more than 400 feet, and the descent is estimated at 
130. Enormous masses of rock lie on the shore con- 
tiguous to the Falls, and by similar masses the cataract 
is divided into three parts, which re-unite before they 
plunge into the abyss at the bottom. The cataract is 
grand, and wild, and turbulent ; roaring, and dashing, 
and foaming over its irregular barrier — current encoun- 
tering current, and all plunging into a restless whirl- 
pool, boiling with incessant agitation : hence, undoubt- 
edly, its French name, signifying * the pot,' or boiling 
cauldron. The falls of the Chaudiere are by many con- 
sidered as superior to those of Montmorenci ; hut though 
vastly grander on account of their width, and the great 
quantity of water, they did not strike us as having such 
peculiar beauties, and as differing so much from oom- 

•->• F 2 j 
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LJanuaay 21, 

mon cataracts. Those of Montmorcnci are probably with- 
out a Darallel in North America." 

Having already described Quebec in No. 333 of the 
* Penny Magazine,* it is unnecessary to say more than 
that it contains at present about 30,000 inhabitants, 
occupying about 3500 houses. A new House of As- 
sembly has been built, consisting of a centre and wing ; 
it is proposed to add another wing for the accommo- 
dation of the Legislative Council. Many of the houses in 
the suburbs of Quebec are built of wood. 

The district of Three Rivers is a tract of country on 

both Bides of the St. Lawrence, about midway between 
Quebec and Montreal. It receives its name from the 
town of Three Rivers, on the north bank of the St. Law- 
rence, at the mouth of the river St. Maurice, about % 
miles above Quebec. At the mouth of the St. Maurice 
are two islands, dividing the river into three channels — 
hence the name. The iron-mines and foundry of St. 
Maurice are about ten miles north of the town of Three 
Rivers. The tides are sometimes perceptible as far as 
this town, which is 432 miles from the head of the 
island of Anticosti. 


Along the southern extremity of the districts of Three 
Rivers and Montreal, and adjoining the States of Maine, 
New Hampshire, and Vermont, are " The Eastern 
Townships of Lower Canada." These townships lie 
between the rivers Chaudiere and Richelieu, and beyond 
the line of the seigniories. They form unquestionably 
the most thriving portion of Lower Canada. The first 
occupants were loyalists from the United States, and the 
inhabitants generally are of British descent, mixed with 
some of the more enterprising of the French Canadians, 
who cross the " pale " of the seigniories and seek em- 
ployment in the townships. " The British American 
Land Company, the incorporation of which by the Impe- 
rial Parliament forms a ground of complaint on the part 
of the Assembly of Lower Canada, has purchased from 
the Government nearly one million of acres of land, 
situated in what are called the Eastern Townships of 
Lower Canada, and forming part of the counties of 
ShefFord, Stanstead, and Sherbrooke. Part of the lands 
thus purchased, amounting to 300,000 acres, consist of 
the crown and clergy reserves, and are for the most part 
in detached lots or farms of 200 acres each. Another 
part consists of the St. Francis territory, in the county of 
Sherbrooke, and comprises about 600,000 acres in one 
large tract or block of land. Part of the purchase-, 
money (50,000/.), stipulated to be paid by the Com- 
pany, is to be expended in public works and improve- 
ments, such as roads, bridges, canals, school-houses, and 
churches within the districts." 

The river St. Francis descends from the eastern town- 
ships, through the southern portion of the district of 
Three Rivers, and falls into the St. Lawrence at Lake 
St. Peter The St. Francis rises in the lake of St. 
Francis, which is about 18 or 20 miles long, and very 
irregular in breadth. The river issues from its west 
side, and runs about 70 miies soutn-west, where it turns 
to the north-west, and soon afterwards unites with the 
river Magog, flowing from La.Ke Mempramagog It 

continues its course north-west to its junction with the 
St. Lawrence, a distance of nearly SO miles. The 
number of rapids and falls render the navigation of this 
river difficult and laborious ; yet the trade upon it is 

The district of Montreal comprehends the upper por- 
tion of Lower Canada. In the centre of the St. Law- 
rence, at a distance of 580 miles from the Gulf of St. 
Lawrence, are two large islands lying alongside of each 
other, called the Island of Montreal and the Isle Jesus, 
besides various smaller islands. The Island of Montreal 
is 32 miles long, by 10 broad, at the widest point ; the 
Isle Jesus is 21 miles long and 6 wide. A newly con- 
structed wooden bridge is thrown across the channel 
between the two islands. 

The Island of Montreal and the Isle Jesus are eeig- 
niories in the hands of the Seminary of St. Sulpice, the 
residence of the Catholic clergy of Montreal. "In 
justice to these reverend gentlemen," tays Mr. Evans, 
" I believe there are not in Lower Canada seigniors who 
are more indulgent to the censitaires." Similar testi- 
mony was given by Mr. Duncan about • eighteen years 
ago. " The ecclesiastics,' ' he says, " are generally re- 
ported to be very moderate in enforcing their legal 
rights ; and, so far as I have heard, live on very friendly 
terms with their Protestant vassals." 

" The city of Montreal," says Mr. Evans, " is situ- 
ated on the south side of the island, at the point which 
may be considered the termination of the uninterrupted 
navigation of the St. Lawrence, as the rapids which first 
seriously interrupt the navigation commence immediately 
above the port of Montreal. It is the firat city in British 
America in extent, population, and wealth. It is nip- 
posed to cover above 1000 acres of ground, including the 
suburbs, and has more than 100 streets, 5500 houses, and 
a population, by estimate, of nearly 35,000. There is not 
a city oi the same extent on this continent that has better 
and more substantially built houses, many of cut stone, 

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generally three and four stories high. The stone is pro- 
cured at a short distance from the city, is soft and 
easily dressed, and resists all the rigour of the climate. 
The improvement in Montreal within the last eighteen 
Tears is very great indeed, and a greater number of fine 
houses were erected last year (1835) than in any year 
previous. The most public streets are kept in excellent 
repair ; and since the city has been incorporated, all the 
streets and roads have been greatly improved, under the 
management of the mayor and common-council. The 
city is lighted, and is supplied with water by a chartered 
company. The port has also been greatly improved by 
the construction of extensive wharfs; and further im- 
provements are in contemplation." 

These improvements are altering the character of 
Montreal, which hitherto had decidedly the aspect of a 
French town, with its narrow dirty streets, and lofty 
dark-coloured houses, with massive iron shutters folded 
back from almost every window and door. Much of 
this character is still preserved in the river-side portion 
of the town ; and many of the streets are still encum- 
bered by projections from door-ways. Mixed as the 
population must necessarily be, the visiter remarks at 
once that the French Canadians predominate : " the 
politeness of the common people is quite characteristic of 
their descent ; a couple of carmen cannot pass each 
other in the street without pulling off their blue or red 
nightcaps, and c Bon jour, Monsieur.' " Vessels of 600 
tons go up to Montreal. Formerly the voyage up the 
river was often more tedious than that across the At- 
lantic ; but ships are now towed up by steamboats from 
Quebec to Montreal 

On the southern bank of the St. Lawrence, opposite 
Montreal, are the villages of Longueil and La Prairie, 
from which roads lead to Ohambly and St. John's on 
the Richelieu. The railroad between La Prairie and St. 
John's has been already mentioned ; as well as the canal 
now finishing, to enable boats to avoid the rapids of the 
Richelieu. The villages of St. Denis and St. Ours are 
on the opposite side of the Richelieu, lower down, nearer to 
its junction with the St. Lawrence. The Richelieu, which 
is also called the Chambly, St. John, St. Louis, and Sorel, 
the largest of the rivers of Lower Canada which fall into 
the St. Lawrence from the south, rises in Lake George, in 
New York, which lake is united by a short passage to 
Lake Champlain. Issuing from Lake Champlain, the 
Richelieu is a wide river, but it grows gradually narrower 
as it proceeds north, so that at its mouth it is only 250 
yards broad, while near Lake Champlain its width 
exceeds 1000 yards. The upper course is rather violent, 
and at some places broken by rapids ; lower down its 
current is regular and gentle It is navigable for decked 
vessels twelve or fourteen miles from its mouth, and to 
Lake Champlain for boats and canoes. From St. John 
there is a ship navigation to the towns on Lake Cham- 
plain. By this river the produce of part of the state of 
New York contiguous to Lake Champlain is brought to 
Montreal. At the mouth is the town of William Henry, 
or Sorel. The course of the Richelieu in Canada is 
above 80 miles. 

We have already adverted to the Rapids on the St. Law- 
rence between Montreal and Lake Ontario, and will now 
give a brief description of them. From Lake Ontario to 
Prescott, a town on the St. Lawrence, or Cataraqui, 
about OT miles lower down, the river is navigable by 
schooners and sloops ; but between Prescott and Mon- 
treal the numerous rapids are impassable by anything 
larger than a batteau, or a Durham boat. " I have 
often wondered," says Mr. Duncan, " who was the first 
to adventure his life in the daring experiment. In some 
of the channels certain destruction awaits all who enter. 
How many lives were lost ere the practicable channels 
we ascertained ? The name of the first adventurer is 
for ever lost, but there is scarcely a deed of daring in the 

history of the species of which it could be said that it 
surpassed his!" Issuing from the lake the river passes 
the Thousand Isles — a name that in this instance is not 
a poetical exaggeration, for the number is 1692. The 
voyageurs, as they tug at the oars, chant their plaintive 
boat-songs, keeping time to the strokes of their oars; 
the conducteur* steers with a small paddle, watching with 
a keen eye the course of the channel. Mr. Duncan, in 
going down the river, approached the first rapid, the 
Big Pitch, as evening was setting in, which struck him 
with the literal truth of Moore's song — 

" Row, brothers, row, the stream runs fast, 
The rapids are near, and the daylight's past I" 
" Ere the tops of the white breakers became visible, pre- 
parations were made for encountering the commotion. 
The sail was lowered down, and the gaff secured, the 
steersman called one of the hands to his assistance, the 
rest hung upon their oars, waiting the word of command 
to strike in. The boat began now to rock from side to 
side, and the terrible cauldron was boiling before us. All 
that could be done was to direct our course to that part 
of the channel where experience told them that the pas- 
sage was least hazardous, and then with all their strength 
to pull the vessel through. I felt an involuntary shrink- 
ing as the captain aimed for what seemed to me the most 
frightful spot of all ; we were swept into the midst of the 
furious commotion, and the order was just given, * Pull 
aWay !' when a heavy wave burst in over our feeble bul- 
warks. Our quivering bark however struggled manfully 
through ; our danger was but momentary, and we soon 
reached the subsiding billows which skirt the extremities 
of the heavy swell." * 

Such scenes closely succeed each other on the voyage, 
for the rapids form a series from below Prescott to the 
head of Lake St. Francis. But the boatmen cannot say 
that their danger and arduous toil are over till they draw 
near to the upper end of the island of Montreal — then 
they may 

•' Sing at St. Anne's their evening hymn." 

" The greatest impediments to navigation occur be- 
tween Johnstown and Cornwall, where the river in 39 
miles falls 75 feet, and very violent rapids are formed by 
the heavy volume of its waters. It is however navigated 
by boats of from six to fifteen tons, and six years ago it 
was stated that 10,000 tons were employed in this navi- 

" The lakes of St. Francis and St. Louis, which follow, 
are only expansions of the river. The former is 25 miles 
long by 5 J where widest. Lake St. Louis, which is formed 
by the junction of the Uttawas or Ottawa river with the 
Cataraqui, is 12 miles long and six broad at its greatest 
width. Between them lie the Cascades, where the great 
volume of water is impetuously pushed towards some 
rocks, and repelled by them, so that large round waves 
are formed, which produce an agitation of the water re- 
sembling that of the most furious tempest. To avoid 
this dangerous place a small canal has been made across 
a point of land near Le Buisson, 500 yards long, and 
furnished with the necessary locks : it is called the Mili- 
tary Canal." 

Modern science is likely to render the perilous naviga- 
tion of the Rapids a mere subject of history. The legis- 
lature of Upper Canada has already voted a large sura of 
money for the improvement of the river from Prescott 
down to Cornwall. " The work," says Mr. Evans, in 
1836, " is far advanced towards completion. The river 
will then be navigable from the line of division between 
the two provinces up to Lake Ontario for steamboats, and 
other vessels drawing nine feet water. The expense of im- 

* Duncan s Travels in America/ vol. ii. Mr Duncan sailed 
through the rapids twice ; once in a batteau, and once in a Durham 
boat — the quotation refers to the latter. The batteaux are usually 
manned by Canadian French, the Durham boats by natives of the 
United States, 

Digitized by 




[January 27* 

provement within the Upper province is estimated to cost 
more than 300,000/." The legislature of Lower Canada 
have heen proposing to second the efforts of the Upper 
province, hy improving that part of the river which lies 
oetween the upper end of the island of Montreal and the 
division or boundary-line, in the centre of Lake St. 
Francis. " From La Chine (on the southern extremity 
of the island of Montreal) to the province line, there are 
considerable obstructions in two or three places, which 
prevent steamboats from plying through from La Chine 
to Cornwall. A survey was made in 1831, and a report 
of the result laid before the legislature." Different esti- 
mates were given in, for the improvement of the river, as 
one plan, and for the cutting of a canal, as another. To 
enable steamboats to sail without interruption from La 
Chine to Lake Ontario will certainly be a very great im- 
provement. At present travellers have to go partly by 
water and partly by land. The canal from Montreal to 
La Chine is merely for Durham boats. Stages convey 
the travellers from the city to La Chine, nine miles ; from 
thence they embark on board a steamboat, which carries 
them to below the first rapid ; stages are in waiting to 
convey them to Couteau du Lac, where they embark in 
another steamboat to Cornwall ; from Cornwall they are 
carried in stages to Prescott — from hence the steamboat 
navigation is uninterrupted to the lake. 

At the close of the United States war of Independence 
in 1784, Upper Canada was a vast forest; and the sepa- 
ration of the two provinces, in 1791, was more in pro- 
spect of what the Upper province would become, than 
what it was. When Weld sailed, in 1796, from Montreal 
to the Lakes, the upper portion of the Cataraqui, or St. 
Lawrence, as well as the shores of Lake Ontario, which 
are now enlivened during summer by the bustle of emi- 
gration, and where villages, hotels, and steamboats 
abound, were covered by encampments of Indians, for 
the purpose of pursuing their favourite sport, as well as 
business, of hunting the bear. That year happened to 
be a" bear year," a season in which the bears were 
remarked to come in greater numbers than usual from 
the north, and from which circumstance a severe winter 
was predicted ; and it so happened that the following 
winter was a severe one. A large bear took to the river 
boldly, in front of the batteau in which Weld was going 
to Lake Ontario, and attempted to swim to one of the 
islands : but it was killed by the voyageurs, who, like 
the Indians, relished the flesh of the animal as well as 
prized the skin. But though the Indians eagerly pursue 
the bear, their superstitious awe of -the animal, and 
natural dread of its strength, prevent them from assailing 
it unless the assailing party is in considerable force. 
(See the woodcut in p. 33.) 

Emigration flowed gradually into Upper Canada; 
thirty years ago it was calculated to contain a population 
of about 70,000 ; now it contains nearly 400,000. The in- 
crease has been very rapid since 1815. Emigrants of all 
classes have flocked to it. The sturdy-minded and strong- 
sinewed man, aware of the nature of the wilderness into 
which he was going, yet determined patiently to cut out a 
settlement in it for himself and his family; the pale-faced 
weaver, flying from the loom that no longer yielded its 
old supplies, to a forest that appeared to him like the 
Land of Canaan, yet sinking in spirit at the sight of log- 
huts* and cedar-swamps ; the military or the naval officer, 
laying down the sword for the hatchet, carrying with him 
a partner willing to exchange genteel poverty for rough 
independence, and to bury accomplishments in the woods 
till in due season they might be called into exercise to 
educate a family ; the " old country" farmer, discon- 
tented with small profits at home, yet in Canada growling 
at the hour when he determined to exchange a civilized 
country for a place where he must build his own houses 
and make his own roads ; the English labourer, teased 
* See cut at page 40. 

with the mosquitoes, and thinking, as he flings down his 
axe, that if he " waur in Yorkshire now, he'd have some 
fat baccon poies ;"* and his wife fretting after her old 
village gossips. But in spite of all the failures and mis- 
calculations of emigrants, the country is rapidly advancing, 
and the majority are the better for their removal. " One 
poor woman," says the wife of an emigrant-officer, " that 
w<w lamenting the miseries of this country, was obliged 
to acknowledge that her prospects were far better than 
they ever had or could have been at home. What, then, 
was the cause of her continual regrets and discontent ? 
I could hardly forbear smiling, when she replied, c She 
could not go to shop of a Saturday night, to lay out her 
husband's earnings, and have a little chat with her neigh- 
bours while the shopman was serving the customers — 
for why ? — there were no shops in the hush, and she was 
just dead-alive. If Mrs. Such-a-one (with whom, by 
the way, she was always quarrelling when they lived 
under the same roof) was near her, she might not feel so 
lonesome.' And so, for the sake of a dish of gossip, 
while lolling her elbows on the counter of a village-shop, 
this foolish woman would have forgone the advantages — 
real, solid advantages— of having land and cattle, and 
poultry and food, and firing and clothing, and all for a 
few years' hard work, which, her husband wisely ob- 
served, must have been exerted at home, with no other 
end in view than an old age of poverty, or a refuge from 
starvation in a parish workhouse, "t 

It cannot be expected that, in so young a country as 
Upper Canada, the towns should be large, or the villages 
very numerous, or the. roads very commodious. There 
is, however, this advantage during the severity of the 
winter, that the snow becomes a kind of natural railroad, 
and sleigh-driving (See wood-cut, p. 36) renders commu- 
nication comparatively easy. There are four towns, how- 
ever, which in Lower Canada, older settlement as it is, would 
be deemed very respectable assemblages of houses. These 
are Brockville, on the St. Lawrence, or Cataraqui ; King- 
ston, at the entrance of Lake Ontario ; Niagara, on the 
south shore of Lake Ontario, at the mouth of the Niagara 
River ; and Toronto, the capital of the province, on the 
north-west of Lake Ontario. There are upwards of 160 
towns and villages which have each a post-office — a 
greater number than in Lower Canada. 

Upper Canada comprehends the countries west of the 
Ottawa, with the exception of a small tract at the conflu- 
ence of the Ottawa with the St. Lawrence, which belongs 
to Lower Canada. It is divided into eleven districts, 
which, beginning from the west, follow one another as 
follows : Western, London, Niagara, Gore, Home, New- 
castle, Midland, Johnstown, Ottawa, Bathurst, and East- 
ern. These districts are divided into twenty-seven counties. 

The capital of Upper Canada was known, until the other 
day, by the name of York : but the original Indian name 
of Toronto has been selected as more distinctive and sono- 
rous. The town suffered in 1813, during the war, hav- 
ing been taken and burned by the troops of the United 
States. " The burning of York by the Americans," says 
Mr. Duncan, " during last war, was the ostensible justifi- 
cation of our conduct at Washington." 

Toronto has now shot beyond its proportions of " a sin- 
gle street," and its Parliament house is now something 
better than a wooden one, which were the characteristics 
of York when burnt by the Americans. In twenty years', 
it has increased from 300 to 1500 houses, and has now a 
population of about 10,000. A large number of trie 
private houses are still of wood : but a few possess the 
more solid qualities of brick and stone. The city lies on 
a bay of Lake Ontario, which is protected by a battery ; 
it is incorporated, and is governea by a mayor, aldermeii, 
and common-council, annually elected. 

* ' WGregor's America. 

f Backwoods of Canada, by the Wife oC an Bttigraat Office*- : 
in* Library «f Enterttuojuj Kjtwtadge.' 

Digitized by 





The Upper Canada college, situated at Toronto, has a 
royal charter of incorporation, and is established for teach- 
ing classical, mathematical, and the more general branches 
of knowledge. The college is under the control of the 
lieutenant-governor of the province as visitor, and has 
an establishment consisting of a principal, a classical, and 
a mathematical master, as well as masters for teaching 
French, writing, arithmetic, and drawing. 

Kingston, the " key of the lakes," has now a popula- 
tion of about 6000, and more than one-half of its houses 
are of stone and brick. It has a government dock-yard, 
which was kept in considerable activity during the late 
American war : but the establishment is either now en- 
tirely broken up, or on a very small scale. There were 
two seventy-fours on the stocks, the building of which was 
stopped by the peace. 

The thriving little town of Niagara — which map- 
makers and travellers usually term Newark, a name not 
acknowledged by the inhabitants — is about ten miles be- 
low the Falls, and is much visited by strangers on their 
way to see them. It contains a population of about 2000. 
Steamboats, during the summer, ply between Niagara 
and various parts of Lake Ontario (Toronto, Kingston, 
&c), and as far down as Prescott, on the Cataraqui, a 
town which in 1815 contained a population of fifty, and 
in 1835 about 1500. On the opposite bank from the 
town of Niagara is Fort Niagara, now belonging to the 
United States, but which was originally built by the 
French, and the taking of which formed a part of the 
combined plan by which Canada was conquered in 1759- 
60. It is close on the edge of Lake Ontario. The Nia- 
gara, though called a river, would be more accurately 
described as a natural canal, of about thirty-six miles in 
length, through which the waters of Lake Erie pass north- 
ward into Lake Ontario. The Welland canal, constructed 
for the purpose of enabling vessels to pass between the 
two lakes, is forty-two miles long, has thirty-seven locks, 
and a fall between the two lakes of 330 feet. In 1810 there 
were only four or five small vessels navigating Lake Erie : 
in 1835 there were 160, and thirty steamboats. Emi- 
gration is fast extending along the east and south-east 
shores of Lake Huron, where the Canada Company have 
a territory, purchased from government, of about sixty 
miles in length, and which already contains several rapidly 
increasing towns.* 

The following statistical details are taken from the 
latest returns : — 


Population according to census in 1830 • • . • 
Increase since, deduced from the different births and deaths 

Three Rivers 
St. Francis 

Total Revenues of the 
— Expenditure 


• 81 

. 41 




J 836 








. UW7 

' 7 °' 789 



38.&051 la 

48^151 J* 
5.146 >| 2 

* U7 [j5 


4151.004 8 S 

128.227 18 8 

67.448 11 6 

100,321 17 2 

The increase in 1P36 arises froni the cfrctumtaoce of no legislative 
grants having been made in ISIS, as no acta to that offset were passe* by ft# 
Colonial Parliament. 

Military expenditure by the Home Government, £222,312 7 8f . 
English, French. Spanish, and American coins, current above their real 
Valoc^Qaantity in circulation unknown— Paper money in circulation— 


Quebec Bank . . 

Montreal . 

City Bank, Montreal 

Currency— Dollar. 5». £343.972 

Old French and English weights and measures are both in use. 

* The Falls of Niagara and the Lakes have been already de- 
scribed in the * Penny Magazine ' — the first in No*29 1, the second 
in No. 334. 

• • 

• • 

Import a 


Quebee • ?! 


St John's . • 

Cotesu du Lac < 

Stanstead . « 

Nouvelle Seance 






























PotwiATiOHv— Male , . 194.064 
Female . , 173,777 

Bevenue.— Proportion of Customs-duty collected in the Lower 

Province £50 719 14 7 

Customs-duty on Importations from United State* 10,307 6 
Total revenues, Including the above • . 202,477 5 8 
In which is included the sum of £93. 907 3 1. 
bills drawn on account of Government upon 
London, and £20,000 instalment for Canada 

Expenditure 4215,98116 3 

Including £28,350 for improving roads, and 
£81,000 for improving the navigation of the 
St. Lawrence. 
Militias- Officers, 1757 ; non-commissioned officers, 1600; privates, 39,131; 
soul, 42,488. 

Archdeacon of York. 300/. ; archdeacon of Kingston, 3002. j Roman Cafholip 
bishop, 500/. ; ministers of Church of Kn gland, 7065/.; ministers of Church of 
Scotland, 1541/. ; United Presbyterians. /OOZ. ; Roman Catholic clergy, *000i. 
Coins.— Same as in Lower province. Paper money— circulation not stated. 
Number of acres in crop . 1.282,134 
Apportioned but uncultivated 4,804,330 
Horses . . 54.655 

Homed cattle , 214,201 

We shall have occasion to return to Upper Canada m 
a subsequent number, as well as to the British North 
American colonies generally. The Tradb of these colo- 
nies, especially the two chief departments of it — the fur- 
trade and the timber-trade — require a more ample notice 
than can be introduced here. We conclude this num~ 
ber with a very brief notice of the other colonies. 

New Brunswick, the present chief timber storehouse 
of Great Britain, occupies the eastern extremity of what 
may be termed the foreground of the continent of North 
America. It is bounded on the west by the State of 
Maine, on the north by that portion of Lower Canada 
which terminates in the peninsula of Gasp6, and its 
eastern and southern sides are washed by the waters of 
the Gulf of St. Lawrence and the Bay of Fundy. It is 
connected with Nova Scotia by the neck of land at the 
head of the Bay of Fundy, Which separates that bay from 
the Gulf of St. Lawrence. 

New Brunswick may be stated as abort 200 miles 
long, from the Bay of Fundy to Canada, and about 150 
broad, from Maine to tbe Gulf of St. Lawrence, contain- 
ing between 27,000 and 28,000 square miles, or about 
18,000,000 acres. Its form is nearly oblong. The 
greater part of the country is covered by extensive forests. 
It is supposed that about 3,000,000 acres of land have 
been granted to settlers, of which about 500,000 are un- 
der cultivation ; and that there are about 10,000,000 
acres of woodland yet to be disposed of, which are fit for 
cultivation. But tne population are not so generally em- 
ployed in agriculture as m the other British provinces of 
America, tlie " lumbering" trade and the fisheries taking 
up the time of more than a third. 

Many fine rivers flow through New Brunswick into 
the Gulf of St. Lawrence and the Bay of Fundy. The 
principal is the St. John, which comes down from Lower 
Canada : the State of Maine claims that portion of Ca- 
nada which is drained by its upper course. Fredericton, 
the capital of New Brunswick, is on the south side of the 
St. John, about 90 miles from its mouth ; the river is 
here about three-quarters of a mile wide, and it is navi- 
gable this distance from the sea for vessels of 50 tons 
burden, and for steamboats. Fredericton is finely situ- 
ated, and, from being the seat of government, will proba- 
bly increase. It was founded in 1785 ; and contains a 

Digitized by 




[January 27, 1838. 

population of about 6000. The public buildings are the 
Government House, the Hall in which the Provincial 
Assembly meet, and where the courts of justice are held, 
with barracks, churches, &c. At the mouth of the St. 
John is the town and seaport of St. John, with a popula- 
tion of upwards of 10,000. Westward from St. John's 
there is a small indention of the coast, called Passama- 
quoddy Bay, into which the river St Croix falls, the 
boundary between New Brunswick and Maine. On this 
bay, three miles from the shores of the United States, is 
the seaport of St. Andrews, between which and Quebec 
the railroad, whose progress has been stopped, is proposed 
to be made. As the tides rise 20 feet in the Bay of 
Fundy, the harbours of St. John and St. Andrew are 
never closed by ice. The chief rivers of New Bruns- 
wick which fall into the Gulf of St Lawrence are Risti- 
gouche river, which terminates in the Bay des Chaleurs 
and Miramichi river, which falls into the well-known bay 
of the same name. 

The peninsula of Nova Scotia was first settled by the 
French, who called it Acadie, the genuine Indian name 
being said to be Acadia. It may be compared in shape 
to a hatchet : the axe being the neck of land by which it 
is connected with New Brunswick, and the main portion 
of the peninsula being the handle, forming the outer 
boundary of the Bay of Fundy. Its length is about 280 
miles, but it is of unequal breadth, varying from 50 
miles to 104. Its superficies is estimated at 15,617 
square miles, or about 10,000,000 acres ; and though in 
1760 it contained a population of only about 6000, it 
has how nearly 200,000. 

Halifax is the chief town* of Nova Scotia. It is the I 
seat of government, and a free warehousing-port. The I 
town has a handsome appearance from the water, being ' 
built on rising ground. The streets are wide, and gene- ' 
Tally cross each other at right angles. Most of the build- 
ings are of wood, but a number of buildings of brick 
and stone have been recently erected. The population is 
about 20,000. Halifax has a considerable maritime 
trade ; the harbour is a noble one, surrounded on all 
sides by high lands, and protected by strong batteries 

There is an extensive government dockyard here, though 
the establishment is now on a very reduced scale. 

The island of Cape Breton is separated from Nova 
Scotia by a narrow channel called the Gut of Canseau, 
21 miles in length, and about a mile in breadth. The 
French formerly possessed a strong establishment at 
Louisbourg, on Cape Breton Island, from whence their 
ships used to annoy our merchantmen ; it was taken 
by Wolfe and Boscawen in 1758, and the British 
government afterwards caused the fortifications to be 
destroyed. Cape Breton Island is united with Nova 
Scotia for purposes of government. 

Prince Edward's Island lies in the Gulf of St. 
Lawrence, close to the shores of New Brunswick, Nova 
Scotia, and Cape Breton, and sheltered so snugly, as to 
enjoy a finer climate than any of them. Its length is 
about 140 miles, and its breadth from 30 to 40. The 
soil is generally of a good quality, and the island has a 
number of natural advantages from its position, so as to 
render it a kind of " Isle of Wight " of British America. 
The population in 1836 was estimated at 40,000. The 
chief town and seat of government is Charlotte-town, 
with a population of about 4000. It has a fine harbour, 
and a safe water-communication with a considerable part 
of the island, by means of three rivers which meet in the 

We have already mentioned that the " mine of wealth" 
in the fishery off the banks of Newfoundland was early 
discovered, and eagerly worked by private adventurers. 
But for the fishery, however, the island would never have 
been considered an object of interest, for its interior is 
still very little known, and is not considered to be of 
much value. Its history is involved in the history of the 
fishery, and comes more fitly under the head of the Trade 
of the British North American colonies. Newfoundland 
is a large irregularly-shaped island, lying in, or rather 
off, the Gulf of St. Lawrence. There are several other 
islands in the Gulf, such as the Magdalen Islands, inha- 
bited by a few poor fishermen, and frequented bv 
thousands of aquatic birds. The long, low, uninhabited 
island of Anticosti is near the mouth of the St. Lawrence. 


The Office of the Society for the Diffluloi! of Ueefal Knowledge ii at 59. Lincoln*! Tnn Field*' 
Printed by Wiixiam Clowki end Sows, Stamford Street, 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[February 3, 1838. 


[Tlie Orang-Outan of the Zoological Society. — From an original drawing. J 

Withim the last few weeks, the collection of the Zoolo- 
gical Society has been enriched by the acquisition of a 
young living Orang-Outan, which it is to be hoped will 
long prove a source of interest, and escape the premature 
fate which has overtaken every individual of this species 
hitherto brought to our uncongenial climate. Indeed so 
lively is the animal at present, so much has it already 
improved, and so judicious are the arrangements for its 
health and comfort, as to justify the most sanguine 
expectations. It is a female, and its age is supposed to 
be between three and four years, the state of the denti- 
tion being taken as a criterion, combined with its stature 
mod the condition of the bones of the skull. Its height 
Vol. VI f. 

from the top of the head to the heel is two feet two 
inches. Of the rapidity or slowness of the growth of the 
Orang and of the natural duration of its life little or 
nothing is known. We have had several opportunities 
of inspecting preserved specimens in different stages, 
but though it is clear that the animal when fully mature 
attains to a large size, we have yet to learn the period of 
its maturity. The following are the admeasurements of 
a young female specimen from Sumatra, in which the 
incisor and canine teeth were deciduary and the two first 
molars on each side : from head to heel, three feet seven 
inches and three-quarters ; span of arms across the chest, 
from the tip of the fingers of one hand to the tip of the 

Digitized by 




[February 3, 

fingers of the other, six feet ; length of lower limbs, four 
teen inches and a half; hand, from wrist to end of 
second finger, six inches ; arm, from shoulder to wrist, two 
feefr one inch ; foot, from heel to end of second toe, nine 
inches and three-quarters. A specimen of an adult 
female from" Sumatra, in the Museum of the Zoological 
Society, measures as nearly as possible as follows : — 
Length from the top of the head to the heel, four feet one 
inch ; length of arm, from the top of the shoulder to the 
tip of the middle finger, three feet five inches ; length of 
lower limb, from hip-joint to heel, one foot nin« inches. 

In the Museum of Iieyden there are specimens of 
Orangs, of far superior dimensions; and M. Solomon 
Muller has lately returned to Heidelberg, after an absence 
of fourteen years spent in India and the islands of Borneo 
and Sumatra, bringing home, amongst other valuable 
acquisitions, a specimen of an Orang from Borneo, be- 
tween six and seven feet in height. 

It is the opinion of many very eminent naturalists that 
there are at least three distinct species of Orang, and our 
readers will find a valuable paper on the subject in the 
first volume of the ' Transactions of the Zoological So- 
ciety,' and a description of the skull of a species termed 
Simia Morio in the ' Zoological Proceedings' for 1836, 
p. 91, whence it would appear that there are two species 
peculiar to Borneo — one, the great Pongo {Simia Wurm- 
bit, Fisch.), distinguished by large callosities on the 
cheeks ; the .second (the Simia Morio, Owen), of inferior 
Bize, but with the brain, as is indicated by the capacity 
of the cranial cavity developed as fully as in the larger 

From these two the Orang of Sumatra (Simia Abellii, 
Fisch.) is regarded as being quite distinct. The term Simia 
Satyruf has been indiscriminately applied to the young 
both of the great Bornean and of the Sumatran species. 

As there is some doubt with respect to the exact locality 
whence the young Orang at the Gardens of the Zoologi- 
cal Society was originally brought, a degree of difficulty 
exists as to which of the species it is referrible, — for the 
Simia Morio is known only -from its skull, upon the dif- 
ference between which, and the skull both of the great 
Bornean and the Sumatran Orangs, the species is 
founded. If Borneo be the native locality of the animal 
in question, it may possibly be the young of the great 
Bornean Orang, the female of which is destitute of cal- 
losities on the cheeks, these being peculiar to the male 
and only acquired by him at an adult period. Of the 
external characters of the Simia Morio we have no infor- 
mation, it is therefore hazardous to say positively that the 
young Orang is not of this species ; but were we to hazard 
a conjecture, we should incline to the idea of its being the 
young of the Sumatran; like all the females of that 
species yet examined, it wants the nail on the thumb of 
the hinder-hands ; and in .the rufous colour, the texture 
and general character of the hair, the similarity is also 
carried on; We may here observe, however, that many 
of the best continental naturalists do not consider that 
three distinct species are really established. 

At a first glance the young Orang in question reminds 
us of the Chimpanzee, the death of which occurred in 
April, 1836, but a more attentive inspection leads us to 
perceive many differences, both as regards external cha- 
racters, and even habits. In the Chimpanzee the arms, 
though long, were far shorter than in this animal, and 
the thumb of the hinder-feet was far more developed, and 
furnished with a nail. The hands both of the fore and 
hind limbs are much longer and narrower in the Orang 
than in the Chimpanzee- In the latter the back of the 
fore-hands was naked to the wrist, — in the Orang the 
back of the hands is covered with hair ; in both the hair 
of the fore-arms is reverted to the elbow. The hinder- 
limbs were better developed in the Chimpanzee than 
they are in the Orang, and their action was more firm 
and steady,— in the Orang the absence of the ligamcnhtm 

teres, at binding ligament of the hip-joint, while allowing 
the utmost freedom of motion to the limbs, tends to 
render them less fitted to serve as organs of support or 
progression on the ground. In the Chimpanzee the ears 
were large and spreading out from the head ; in the Orang 
they are small and cbse. In the former the hair of the 
head radiated from a centre, and the forehead was low 
and flat ; in the latter, the hair of the head is all directed 
forwards, there being no centre of radiation ; the fore- 
head is large and convex, with a slight perpendicular 
elevated line indicating the suture of the two frontal 
bones. In both animals the lips are capable of extra- 
ordinary protrusion, but the chin was larger in the Chim- 
panzee and more prominent — the cheeks still more 
wrinkled, and the muzzle furnished with thinly scattered 
white hairs, giving a grotesque picture of age in contrast 
with the playful habits of a child. In the Orang the chip, 
retreats at once from the protruding lips, and no white 
hairs are scattered around the muzzle. In the voice of the 
two animals as wide a difference as possible exists. The 
Chimpanzee was capable of uttering deep guttural sounds 
of considerable power, as well as louder cries ; but the 
voice of the Orang when displeased or disappointed is a 
feeble plaintive whine or low Bcream, and it only at such 
times that it is exerted. 

If the ground be not the true place for the Chim- 
panzee, still less is it adapted as a station for the Orang 
to occupy. All who have had opportunities of observing 
the Orang on the ground record its slow and vacillating 
mode of progression ; a motion dependent rather on the 
arms, which from their length act as crutches supporting 
the body between them, than upon the hinder limbs, 
which are ill calculated for such service. When left en- 
tirely to itself on the floor, the little inmate of the Zoo- 
logical Gardens, if incited to walk, supports its weight on 
its arms, applying the bent knuckles to the ground ; and 
so long are the arms, that it stoops far less in this attitude 
than did the Chimpanzee, — indeed it is very nearly erect; 
the hinder limbs are at the same time bowed outwards, 
and the outer side rather than the sole of the foot is 
placed upon the floor. Thus supported, it waddles along, 
the movements of its hinder limbs reminding us of those 
of a rickety child just able to walk alone : it is plain that 
the arms have the most to do in this exercise ; often in- 
deed, and that the more especially when it wishes to move 
quickly (as when following its keeper), it fairly swings 
the body forwards between the arms, as if impatient of 
the hobbling gait to which the structure of its lower 
limbs restricts it. That its lower limbs however, with 
slight assistance, are not incapable of supporting the body, 
and that it can waddle along very fairly, using these 
alone, we have repeatedly witnessed. For instance, it 
will walk, and at a tolerable pace, comparatively speak- 
ing, by the side of a person holding it by the hand, 
and in the narrow space between the outside railing and 
the front bars of the giraffes' house (the apartment in 
which it is kept), it walks with great facility, availing 
itself of the railing on one side, and the edge of the ele- 
vated floor on the other, along which to run its hands by 
way of steadying itself. In the giraffes' house (before 
alluded to) it has an inclosure or large cage of its own, 
railed off from the rest of the apartment by a fencework 
of bamboos. Here are two artificial trees with numerous 
branches, among which it may climb at pleasure. Re- 
membering the activity and the merry autiC3 of the 
Chimpanzee (of which an account will be found in the 
' Penny Magazine' for 1836, No. 248), we expected to 
see far more liveliness and celerity in the climbing move- 
ments of this little Orang than were displayed. It was, 
it is true, perfectly at its ease, aud confident of its se- 
curity : sometimes it would suspend itself by the hand 
and foot of the same side, the head hanging down, aud 
the disengaged haud playing with various articles within 
its reach; sometimes it would swing with the body 

Digitized by 





horizontal, and in this attitude the hip-joint of the hinder 
limb in use was bent at a right angle laterally, showing 
how freely the head of the thigh-bone rotates in its 
socket. Still however, though Its attitudes were varied 
as can be imagined, its actions were slow and deliberate, 
excepting indeed on one or two occasions, when it wished 
to follow its keeper, who had opened the door of its cage, 
but even then it did not bound from branch to branch like 
a monkey, but stretching out its arms, and grasping the 
branches within its reach, it swung itself onwards, and so 
descended to the floor, along which it hobbled awkwardly 
and unsteadily. We were struck with one thing in the 
hands, and more especially in the feet, of this Orang, 
while climbing, which we do not think has been noticed 
so clearly as it merits, namely, that they are rather hooks 
than true graspers. In the Chimpanzee the thumb of 
the hinder hands is large, and it grasps very firmly with 
these organs, for we have seen, that, resting on the back 
of a chair or on a perch, it can throw itself backwards 
and raise itself again into its previous position, grasping 
by them alone ; but in the Orang the extraordinary length 
ot the foot and the rudimentary condition of the thumb, 
which serves but as a very inefficient antagonist to the 
long fingers, would seem to militate against the possibility 
of that close energetic grasp being exerted which such a 
feat as we have alluded to would require. At all events, 
the young Orang in question, as observed by us, used its 
hinder feet more as hooks than as decided graspers ; and 
it may be added that their hook-like rather than grasping 
character affords a reason, amongst others, why the ani- 
mal cannot possess the peculiar activity of the monkey 
or the lemur among the branches. The observations of 
M. Fred. Cuvier respecting the progressive movements 
of the Orang, as noticed by himself, agree very closely 
with those which an attention to the habits of the present 
living animal have suggested.' (See'Annales duMu- 
ahim,' torn, xvi.) 

Though this animal is naturally and habitually dull 
and inanimate, it has its times of sportiveness, when it 
readily engages in play with those to whom it is attached, 
follows them to court their notice, or pursues them in mimic 
combat. Perhaps indeed there is a latent disposition in 
it to attack those whom it deems itself capable of overcom- 
ing, A young gentleman in our presence pretended to 
be afraid, and retreated gradually Wore it, whereon it 
perseveringly followed him for a considerable period ; we 
tried the same experiment ourselves, and it gave chase to 
us completely round the apartment ; but when it found 
its efforts vain, it waddled to its keeper, whom it evi- 
dently regarded as its protector, and to whom it mani- 
fested the utmost attachment. The next moment it 
suffered us to approach it, and take it by the hand, with- 
out the least sign of displeasure. One of its favourite 
attitudes is to sit " a la Turque," in a low chair,'or on the 
floor before the fire, with a blanket wrapped comfortably 
around it, and which it arranges without assistance, draw- 
ing it over the shoulders and around the body. Thus at 
ease, it will remain, if its keeper be near, without any 
change, regardless of all that passes around ; for, unlike 
tlie lively, inquisitive Chimpanzee, which was interested 
in all about it, and fond of seizing every thing with 
child-like eagerness, it seems to take but little interest in 
the novelties on every side. The sight of % the giraffes, on 
its first introduction to them, excited neither surprise nor 
fear. It has, however, tried occasionally to lay hold of a 
giraffe's nose, as it bends its long neck over the rails of 
the inclosure, and lowers its head towards the Orang, 
attracted by the food in its hand. While we were pre- 
sent it took not the slightest notice of them, though from 
time to time their necks were arched above it. Like its 
unfortunate predecessor, the Chimpanzee, it recognises its 
name, and obeys the command of its keeper; and we 
several times saw it wrap itself up in the blanket at his 
1,f " £, and seat itself in its chair. If, however, he 

moved to a distance, it immediately followed. The only 
instance of curiosity which it manifested in our presence 
was to examine the pockets of its keeper, in search of 
bread or some article of diet ; but it seemed to be in- 
cited by no spirit of inquisitiveness. A bystander put a 
,cane or slender walking-stick into its hand ; it held the 
stick listlessly, gently applied its teeth as if to try its 
texture, and easily relinquished it, neither playing with 
it, nor appearing disposed to retain it. Fond as it is of 
its keeper, it receives his attentions with less apparent 
pleasure than the Chimpanzee did under similar circum- 
stances. On purpose to incite it to a game of romps 
while we stayed to watch it, he played with it as with a 
child, and tickled it in various places about the side and 
chest, rousing it into momentary mirth : its face at that 
time assumed the expression of laughter ; it grinned with 
evident pleasure, its eyes twinkled, and it uttered a half- 
suppressed, feeble 6ort of noise, with less however of the 
" chuckle " in it — less decidedly laughter-like — than were 
the tones uttered by the Chimpanzee under similar treat- 
ment ; and when its keeper ceased, it did not invite him 
to a renewal of the play, but settled into its habitual state 
of seeming apathy. 

Confinement, which is irksome to all animals, is evi- 
dently distressing to this little Orang : it cannot bear to 
be separated by intervening bars from its keeper ; and 
on some recent attempts to confine it for a short time to 
its bamboo-latticed inclosure, there being wire between 
each bamboo, to narrow the interspaces, — straining apart 
the latter with its arms, it readily forced itself through, 
so that cross-wiies have been intertwined with the former, 
for the sake of preventing a repetition. It is, however, 
very questionable whether, if perseveringly confined for 
several hours together every day, it will not pine, to the 
injury of its health, so much does it dislike to be left 

Dressed in its Guernsey jacket and trousers, a sort of 
clothing which it needs in our climate, its appearance, 
seated on its chair, or at the table with its keeper in his 
private room, is very amusing ; nor less so the expression 
of its countenance, when soliciting a share of the food 
before it : it looks at its keeper, looks at the tempting 
morsel, and protrudes its flexible lips into the form of a 
conical proboscis ; when offered any liquid to drink in 
a cup or saucer, it does not however dip its lips into the 
fluid, but holding the cup in its hand, puts the rim be- 
tween its lips and so drains up the contents, exactly as a 
child would do under similar circumstances, and with all 
due gravity and decorum. Disappointment is trying to 
all, and this little Orang is not an exception to the general 
rule : it does not endure it with unruffled feelings. Mr. 
G. Bennett (Bee his " Wanderings," &c., vol. i., p. 367), 
speaking of an Orang which he had the opportunity of 
seeing in the possession of Mr. Davies at Java, observes, 
that when a large bamboo cage was constructed, and in 
which it was attempted to confine him, " he screamed 
with rage on being placed in it, and exerting his mus- 
cular power, soon demolished it, and was then quiet as 
before." The same gentleman also notices the rage pro- 
duced by disappointment in a species of Gibbon, which 
he was endeavouring to bring home, and which, as he 
says, " when refused or disappointed at anything, would 
display the freaks of temper of a spoiled child, lie on the 
deck, and dash every thing aside that might be within his 
reach ; walk hurriedly, and repeat the same scene over 
and over again." It is much in the same manner that 
this little Orang displays its passion, throwing itself about 
on the floor, and uttering its whining cry till satisfied, 
and satisfied it must be before it will resume its ordinal y 
composure. The person who brought it to England inti- 
mated that it had exhibited several violent paroxyms of 
passion while on board ; and occasionally since its intro- 
duction into the Zoological Gardens it has indulged in 
fits of anger ; but as kind treatment is the uniform course 

G 2 

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[February S t 

pin-sued towards it, occasions of such an out-burst but 
rarely occur ; unless indeed when it is confined in its in- 
closure, and necessarily separated from the person in 
charge of it. One of these scenes took place very re- 
cently : its keeper having fastened the door of its bam- 
boo-latticed inclosure and gone about his other duties, it 
gave way at once to a paroxysm of violent passion ; it 
traversed the bamboo framework with the utmost celerity, 
for it was roused to unusual activity, striving to force the 
rods apart, and escape into the room ; screaming with 
disappointment, it swung itself to the branches of the 
trees (which we have described above), and descending 
thence to the floor it dragged its chair (a heavy chair 
too) to the door, and using it as a sort of battering-ram, 
endeavoured by violent and repeated blows to force open 
the unyielding wicket : disappointed in its efforts, it again 
swung itself from branch to branch Bcreaming with rage, 
again traversed the lattice-work, and again tried at the 
door with its chair. Nothing but the return of its keeper 
pacified it. A scene of this nature serves to prove the 
correctness of the reports of the natives of Borneo re- 
specting the adult Orang, which is much dreaded there. 
They say that he will sit in listless apathy for hours 
among the topmost branches of the forest, in solitary se- 
clusion; and that unless when roused, his movements 
are slow and indolent, but that when attacked, he performs 
the most astonishing feats among the branches, and de- 
fends himself with determined resolution. His bodily 
powers, as the enormous bulk of the chest declares, are 
prodigious, and his long sinewy arms enable him, while 
swinging by the feet from a branch overhead, to grapple 
with his antagonist. Unless provoked, however, he makes 
no attack, but is quiet and peaceful. 

The disgust or fear entertained by the Orang (at least 
while young) towards tortoises is well known ; and it will 
be remembered that the young Chimpanzee recoiled with 
horror from a large snake introduced into the room by 
way of experiment, and that tortoises also were regarded 
with aversion. The present Orang has not (and we think 
wisely) been made the subject of a snake experiment ; it 
has however been tried with a small tortoise, at the sight 
of which, as the animal crawled along, it stood aghast, in 
an attitude of amazement ludicrously theatrical ; nothing 
could induce it to pass the crawling object of its distrust. 
It would appear however that familiarity with the sight 
of tortoises easily removed the apprehensions of the Orang, 
for after this -had seen a tortoise a few times it exhibited 
less annoyance at the creature's presence. Whatever in- 
stinctive fear the Orang or Chimpanzee may entertain to- 
wards the larger snakes, or indeed snakes of any size, 
some of which are to be dreaded for their poison, it can- 
not, we think, be imputed to such an instinct that the 
Orang is amazed or alarmed at the presence of a tortoise, 
inasmuch as the tortoise is utterly incapable of inflicting 
the slightest injury ; we must therefore attribute the 
amazement of the young Orang rather to the strange ap- 
pearance of the animal, an animal so unlike every living 
thing which it had hitherto witnessed, an animal of sus- 
picious aspect, and the qualities of which it had yet to 
prove, than to any innate fear implanted as a preserva- , 

fhe young Orang of the Zoological Gardens, we need 
not say, is not the first of its race which within the last 
few years has been brought to our shores ; but it is cer- 
tainly the first which so fairly promises to reward, by a 
long residence in its new domicile, the care manifested 
towards it, and the exertions to maintain it in health and 
comfort. It is not many years since that the character, 
habits, and form of the Orang were among the desiderata 
of science. Ignorance and credulity had invested it with 
faculties and intellects bordering upon those peculiar to 
ihe human race ; it was accounted but little lower than 
man. The earner travellers and voyagers had filled their 
pages with descriptions teeming with the . marvellous ; 

and men of learning had indulged in the wildest specu- 
lations respecting its capabilities of progressive refine- 
ment, and its affinity to our race. These puerile fancies 
have all dissipated before true science ; and we now know 
that extraordinary as the Orang may be, compared with its 
fellows of the brute creation, still in nothing does it trench 
upon the moral or mental provinces of man. 


The little promontory of Absheron on the Caspian Sea is 
one of the most singular regions in the world. It is 
situated in Georgia, and was once considered a part of 
Asia ; but since it has become a province of Russia, it 
has been reckoned as forming a portion of Europe. The 
surface of the promontory is barren, almost destitute of 
water, and utterly bare of trees. Its soil is saturated 
with naphtha, a very inflammable bituminous oil, which 
in some parts rises to the surface of the earth spontane- 
ously, and may be found by digging almost everywhere. 
In many places enormous quantities of gas, similar in 
nature to our coal or oil gas, issue from orifices in the 
earth ; this gas the inhabitants employ to light their 
houses, by conducting it through tubes, similar in princi- 
ple to our gas-pipes, though more clumsy in construction. 
They use it also as fuel to dress their food, to warm their 
dwellings, and for many other purposes. The centre of 
action of this fiery matter is near the town of Baku, the 
chief place in the territory. 

The ancient Persians were worshippers of fire : they 
adored the sun as its source, and in his absence they kept 
up perpetual fires as his representative. The advance of 
the Mohammedan religion extinguished, in a great mea- 
sure, the faith of the Fire-worshippers ; but some remains 
of the ancient believers are still found scattered in Persia, 
and many of their body have been long settled in India, 
particularly at Bombay, where they constitute a very re- 
spectable and influential portion of the population. The 
perpetual fire of Baku would naturally be an object of 
attraction to these people ; and we accordingly find that 
they have, from a remote period, had an establishment 
there. They have enclosed with a high wall a spot of 
ground, from which a vast quantity of gas issues, which 
they always keep burning. Tins place has been described 
by several travellers, the most recent of whom, a Russian, 
whose journal was published in 1833, arrived on the 
spot by night. " We saw the flame," he says, " at a 
considerable distance before our arrival. It was a singu- 
lar spectacle ; four principal jets of flame were first visi- 
ble, and as we got nearer, a considerable number of 
smaller ones began to show themselves springing from 
the ground. The four jets rose to a great height, and 
illuminated all the surrounding country, which is barren 
and desert. At last we saw a high wall of white stone, 
above which rose four great tubes like chimneys ; from 
these tubes issued the columns of flame we had first 
seen. We thought ourselves in the neighbourhood of a 
palace of fairies. ,, 

Nothing is known of the state of this place in very re- 
mote times ; but it is described by the Arabian author 
Massudi, who wrote 900 years ago. He speaks of a 
mine of white naphtha at Baku, from which a column of 
flame rises to a great height, visible on every side at a 
distance of 100 farsangs. As one farsang, on the lowest 
computation, must be much more than a mile, and pro- 
bably three or four, the Oriental style of exaggeration is 
evident in this estimate, as it is in what follows, unless 
the state of things be greatly altered : " It makes a noise 
like thunder, and throws up inflamed masses of rock be- 
yond the reach of sight." 

We are not aware of any European writer who has 
mentioned this place earlier than the Russian traveller 
Alexander Nikitin, who saw it on his way to India in 
1470 ; and he merely says that he saw at Baku the fire 
which burns eternally. 

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The Fire-worshippers at Baku generally reside at that 
unhealthy spot a longer or shorter time, according to the 
fervour of their faith. The shortest residence is five 
yean ; many stay there eight ; and a very few, who are 
considered in the light of saints, remain there until death. 
As the Russian writer calls them Hindus, they are pro- 
bably all from India. They live solely on vegetables, 
cultivated hy their own hands, and each man dresses and 
eats his food alone in his cell. Their maintenance is de- 
rived chiefly from the charity of their fellow-worshippers, 
one of whom, named Otumd, now resident at Astrakhan, 
furnishes the greatest portion. The owners of vessels 
navigating the Caspian Sea also frequently send them 
considerable presents, as a sort of payment for the benefit 
received from the fire maintained in the four lofty chim- 
neys before-mentioned, which constitutes an excellent 

Our traveller describes the appearance of the interior 
of the inclosure as very imposing. " We were struck 
with astonishment," he says, " at the sight before us. 
We found ourselves in a vast square perfectly light, and 
in the midst we saw a building, from which issued four 
large and lofty tubes vomiting flame. The light from 
this fire is not less surprising to strangers than it is daz- 
zling. The cells of the Hindus are placed all round the 

walk The Hindus, with no other covering than 

a girdle and a turban, came out of their cells. The dark 
colour of their skin, their loose hair (for as many of them 
had no turban, it hung at full length in disorder), and the 
leanness of their bodies, which showed nothing But bones, 
produced on us very singular sensations. The first 
who accosted us introduced us into his cell : the only 
furniture was a miserable carpet and two pitchers; 

but a beautiful rose-bush stood outside the door 

The cells were mostly small ; frames were spouting out 
in nearly all of them, either directly from holes in the 
floor, or from clay tubes driven into the ground, which 
answer the purpose of candles." 

In the midst of the enclosure is the place where these 
people burn their dead. It is a cave dug in the earth, 
about six feet square and three deep, and is covered with 
broad flat stones. This vault, like every other opening 
Tnade in the ground, is always filled with gas. When a 
Fire-worshipper dies, the survivors smear his body with 
butter, and place it over the vault : they then set fire to 
the gas, which comes through the interstices between the 
stones, and the body is thus consumed. They afterwards 
carefully gather up all the ashes which have fallen 
through into the vault, and throw them to the winds. 
Thus ends the ceremony. 

The gas is evidently of a similar nature to what we 
^e, though, as it is said to be without smell, and to have 
no effect on the breath, it is probably purer than that 
which our establishments produce. Its flame is of a 
yellowish white, and very brilliant. This shows that it 
cannot be pure hydrogen, which burns with a faint blue 
flame. The heat it gives out in burning is very great, 
sufficient to calcine lime ; and it is largely used for this 
purpose by the people of the country. When mixed with 
common air, it becomes explosive. The first discovery of 
|his property was unlucky for the poor Fire- worshippers ; 
it was made by one of them who happened to raise his 
torch near the ceiling of his cell, where the gas rises in 
consequence of its levity. It exploded, a large portion 
of the building was thrown to the ground, and several 
persons were severely wounded. Since that time they 
We been very cautious about lifting up a light in their 
cells, and they ran away terribly alarmed at seeing the 
Russian traveller do so. But they are very willing to 
prform the experiment at any time for the amusement of 
Angers, at tome distance from their dwellings. The 
place they choose for this object is the well whence they 
get water. They usually keep this well open, to allow 
^e gas to escape ; but when they cover it, a sufficient 

quantity is evolved in half an hour to produce an ex- 
plosive mixture with the air that was previously in it. 
When this is effected, a person takes off the cover of the 
well and throws into it a handful of lighted straw. The 
explosion which follows is said to be terrific, which may 
be easily imagined, the well being 100 feet deep. 

Many theories have been formed to account for the 
vast development of gas at Baku: the most probable 
seems to be, that the naphtha which abounds in and be- 
neath the soil is decomposed by some internal fire. That 
there is such a fire at no great distance from the surface, 
there can be no question. There are a great many hot 
springs, and in some crevices of the calcareous rock near 
the perpetual fire the heat felt is so great that it is im- 
possible to keep the hand there. The whole territory, as 
well as some of the islands in the neighbourhood, are 
constantly subject to mud volcanoes. On one of those 
islands, named Svinoi Ostrov (Isle of Pigs), not Sviatoi 
Ostrov (Holy Island), as in some maps, Mr. Vatsenko, 
Russian consul at the court of Persia, was wrecked in 
1826. The island, he says, is quite covered with vol- 
canoes of mud ; they are little heaps or swellings in the 
tenacious soil, which rise gradually with a peculiar noise 
to the height of two or three feet ; they then burst like 
bubbles, water is thrown out, and their sides fall in. 
Outside they look like moist clay, and inside they have 
the appearance of burnt bricks : naphtha begins to flow 
out or the opening as soon as the water has ceased spout- 
ing. When one neap has disappeared, another rises near 
it, but not in the same place, and in this manner the 
whole island is covered ; it has the appearance of an 
immense field grubbed up by pigs, which has induced 
the Russians to give it the name it bears. The whole of 
the surface is soft, and imbibes water like a sponge; 
after a shower of rain, it is a complete marsh, which will 
not bear a foot upon it. 

, The volcanoes of the Continent are much larger, and 
more worthy the name than those little elevations on 
Svinoi Ostrov. They have been frequently described, 
and Kcempief has given a strange drawing of one in his 
' Amcenitates Exoticse.' They have occasionally thrown 
out large stones and flame as well as water, which may 
account for Massudi's description. 

The chief riches of the country consist in its naphtha. 
This useful bituminous oil is of two sorts, black and 
white. The latter is the most valuable, and it is also 
much rarer than the other ; it is found only at one place, 
about a mile from the village of Sarakhan, where it is 
gathered in sixteen wells or pits. Of the black sort the 
number of wells worked in 1833 was 109. Notwith- 
standing its name, this is by no means all black : it varies 
in quality from a coarse pitchy substance, which can be 
used for little better than calking ships, to a clear 
greenish oil, which serves admirably for lamps. The 
earth and sand in the neighbourhood of the wells is so 
thoroughly impregnated with naphtha, that it forms an 
excellent fuel, and is used exactly like our coal : when it 
is found in large slabs, it is used like slates or tiles for 
roofing houses, for which purpose it is admirably fitted 
by its toughness and impermeability. 

The naphtha is drawn from the wells, which vary from 
one to fifteen fathoms in depth, by means of buckets and 
windlasses, which are moved by men or horses. It is 
almost invariably found mingled with water, from which 
it is separated by being thrown into large ditches con- 
structed near the wells, in which it is allowed to stand until 
the water by its superior specific gravity falls to the bottom. 
The naphtha is then gathered up in flat wooden scoops, 
and poured into large sheepskin bottles, which are then 
deposited in cellars well lined with cement, until they are 
wanted for exportation or home consumption. 

The production of black naphtha is computed to be 
about nine millions of pounds per annum, while that of 
the white sort is under thirty thousand pounds The 

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[February 3, 

quantity gathered in warm weather is much larger than 
what is produced in cold weather ; it is also increased 
when the wind is southerly, and decreased if it blows from 
the north ; and it is worthy of remark that the same wea- 
ther and winds respectively augment and lessen the evo- 
lution of gas. If is a curious fact that unless the wells 
be frequently emptied, they cease altogether to be produc- 
tive, and that a cessation of even two or three days in 
working them causes a sensible diminution ; although in 
such cases a few days' regular work will restore the ori- 
ginal productiveness. May not the cause of this be that 
the naphtha, if allowed to remain in the well, will line the 
walls with a sort of varnish, and in this manner close up 
the pores, through which the filtration of a further supply 
would otherwise be effected ? 

The naphtha wells are exclusively worked by the people 
of Balakhani, a village of 192 inhabitants, of whom 344 
only are males, an inferiority of number which may be 
caused by the unwholesomeness of their occupation. The 
whole of the white naphtha is exported to Astrakhan, 
where it sells at about three-pence per pound. The 
greatest part of the black naphtha is exported to Persia, 
somewhat less than a million of pounds being retained in 
Georgia for domestic uses. 


The noblest hunting-ground in the world belongs to an 
English Company. It is a region of many thousand miles, 
extending from Hudson's Bay to the shores of the Pacific 
Ocean, and from the frontiers of the United States to tlie 
Arctic Sea. It abounds with mountains, rocks, lakes, 
rivers, waterfalls, swamps, and forests ; and its inhabit- 
ants, the grisly bear, the less terrible but still dangerous 
black bear, the shaggy bison, the beaver, the elk, and the 
badger, furnish exciting objects of chace. Over the 
whole of this extensive territory the Hudson's Bay Com- 
pany has its " forts" and " houses," where its clerks gather 
the furs from the hunters, which are afterwards shipped 
to London by way of Hudson's Bay, Montreal, and from 
the Columbia on the Pacific Ocean. The annual sales 
of furs in London, which are held every year in the 
month of March, attract many foreign merchants to the 
metropolis, who often make considerable purchases, which 
are sent chiefly to the great fair in Leipzig, from whence 
they are again distributed to aU parts of the continent of 

The fur trade is indeed an adventurous and most arti- 
ficial branch of commerce. To gratify some proud Chi- 
nese mandarin, who scarcely thanks the " outer" barba- 
rians who carry him his funs — or to please some fair 
lady, who, as she draws the graceful boa round her neck, 
little dreams of all the toil that has been gone through to 
place it within her reach, British subjects must plunge 
into forests ; pass months and years far from the cheering 
associations of civilized life ; bitten by the frosts of winter, 
and stung by the mosquitoes and sand-flies in summer ; 
now escorting " brigades" of canoes through the interior 
oi the country, or encamping on the shores of a lake or 
river, looking out for something which their guns may 
bring down for supper; or at other times passing a 
dreary season at the " fort," where, from the failure of 
game and pcmmican, they may be reduced to the coarsest 
food, or to M short commons." He who takes such a 
view of the fur trade may say,— let a sumptuary law be 
passed, such as Henry the Eighth enacted, and let none 
below royal, or at least noble, in rank, presume to deco- 
rate their persons with furs. In that case the Hudson's 
Bay Company would soon have to abandon their 
forts in the interior of the country, and active young 
men no longer wearing out their prime at the foot of the 
Kocky Mountains, or on the banks of the Mackenzie, 
* 'Fenny Cyclopaedia :' article, Fua Tjudb, 

would resort to more rational modes of earning a sub- 
sistence ! 

How different is the other side of the picture ! The his- 
tory of the American fur trade has not a few blots upon 
it, which might have been avoided, if mutual accommo- 
dation, prudence, and wisdom, had always regulated the 
conduct of the traders ; yet notwithstanding, it strongly 
illustrates the tendency oi the spirit of commerce to act as 
an effectual pioneer of civilization, as well as of science. 
The woods of Britain were thinned of its brown bears to 
make barbarous sport for the people of Rome ; and royal 
rewards stimulated the courage and activity which extir- 
pated both the bear and the wolf from the island. But 
what incentive could clear the forests of North America, 
or drive back the ferocious, as well as the useful animals 
which abound in them, to make way for cultivated fields, 
and villages, and towns ? The demand for furs is doing 
it, regularly and effectually. The bear and the wolf, as 
well as the elk and the beaver, abounded along the banks 
of the St. Lawrence ; they retreated to the forests on the 
shores of the great lakes — these' forests are being cut 
down, and now these animals must be sought for over the 
whole face of the continent, and in its most impracticable 
or dreariest regions. The lakes and rivers of die interior 
of British North America are in general too much ob- 
structed by rocks, rapids, and waterfalls, to permit the 
introduction of steamboats upon them. The Indiau 
canoe is still found the most useful vessel, for when it 
cannot float it can be carried. But in the fur country of 
the United States, which lies south of that of the Hudson's 
Bay Company, the rivers that flow through the vast 
prairies are not so much obstructed ; and the American 
Fur Company now employ steamboats to ascend them. 
The natives were startled when they first appeared ; and 
if the bisons could have reasoned, they might have seen 
in the first smoke that streamed from these vessels a sig- 
nal to their multitudinous hosts, that ere long man, with 
his spade and his plough, would successfully contest with 
them for the possession of the plains. 

The Hudson's Bay Company were chartered in 1670, 
with the privilege of exclusive trading with the Indians 
to the north and west of the bay. But for nearly a cen- 
tury afterwards Canada was a colony of France, and the 
French Canadians prosecuted the fur trade with many 
natural and acquired advantages 'not possessed by the 
Hudson's Bay Company. The Coureurs des Bois fear- 
lessly ventured with the Indians into the forests ; they 
acquired the hardy habits of their companions, learned 
their language, intermarried with them, and were often 
adopted into their tribes ; and at last the distant shores of 
Lake Superior, the Lake of the Woods, and Lake Wini- 
peg, became as familiar to them as the neighbourhood of 
Montreal. In those early days, rich harvests of furs re- 
warded their toil, though in general it was the merchants 
and shopkeepers of Montreal, living " at home at ease," 
who reaped permanent success. The coureurs or 
voyageurs, in acquiring the patience and perseverance 
of the Indian, too often acquired also the extravagance 
and thoughtlessness so generally characteristic of unci- 
vilized man. A winter often sufficed to dissipate the 
gains of two or three years; and when the season came 
round, they were as ready as ever to start again for the 

The desultory and unsettled lives of the voyageurs were 
not calculated to improve either themselves or their compa- 
nions the Indians. The missionaries of the House of St. 
Lazarus, founded by Vincent de Paul (see No. 370), scan- 
dalized by what they saw and heard, and anxious to convert 
the Indians, and to check the mischief arising from the 
indiscriminate use of rum, tracked the footsteps of the 
traders through the woods, and some of them established 
themselves at " the distance of 2500 miles from the civi- 
lized part of the Colonies." In their zeal to do good, 
these men " habituated themselves to the savage life, and 

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naturalized themselves to the savage manners," an error 
of judgment which Sir Alexander Mackenzie censures, 
as " by thus becoming dependent, as it were, on the 
natiVes, they acquired their contempt rather than their 
veneration." But though no permanent result was pro- 
duced, the missionaries were a check upon the conduct 
of the traders during their temporary residence in the 
country ; the " contempt" of the Indians for their un- 
warlike disposition was mingled with affection for the 
benevolence and disinterestedness which they displayed ; 
to that between the fatherly conduct of the Roman 
Catholic priests, and the community of Hfe with the In- 
dians of the royagenrs, the French acquired such an in- 
fluence over the Indians, as could scarcely be overcome 
by the policy of Great -Britain, after the occupation of 
Canada. That policy was a system of kindness, mani- 
fested by interdicting all persons, except those authorised 
by government, from purchasing Indian lands, and by 
an annual distribution of presents. When sales of land 
were made, they were conducted in a regular and formal 
manner, with the consent of the Indians ; and the annual 
expense of the " Indian department," charged with the 
distribution of the presents, was upwards of 150,000/. ; 
jet so slowly was the attachment of the Indians for the 
French broken up, that 40 years after Britain had taken 
possession of Canada, an Indian sick, or hungry, or in 
want of shelter from a storm, would in general sooner go 
to the house of a French-Canadian than an English 
settler ; and Weld says that the old Indians were in the 
babit of affirming, that " they were never so happy as 
when the French had possession of the country." Speak- 
ing of the gradual extinction of the Indian race, he ad- 
THiiced a conjecture which has been realised in a shorter 
time than he assumed it would be. " Even in Canada," 
be says, " where the Indians are treated with so much 
kindness, they are disappearing faster, perhaps, than any 
people were ever known to do before them, and are 
making room every year for the whites ; and it is by no 
means improbable, but that at the end of 50 years there 
will not be a single Indian to be met with between Que- 
bec and Lake St. Clair, except the few that may be 
induced to lead quiet domestic bves." 

Weld was a spectator, in H96, of an annual distribu- 
tion of presents to a number of Indians, at Maiden, on 
the Detroit, the channel through which the waters of the 
Upper lakes are connected with Lake Erie. The fol- 
lowing is his description of the scene : — 

u A number of large stakes were first fixed down in dif- 
ferent parts of the lawn, to each of which was attached a 
label, with the name of the tribe, and the number of per- 
sons hi h who were to be provided for. Then were 
brought out from the stores several bales of thick blan- 
kets, of blue, scarlet, and brown cloth, and of coarse 
figured cottons, together with large rolls of tobacco, 
?tws, flints, powder, balls, shot, case-knives, ivory and 
born comb», looking-glasses, pipe-tomahawks, hatchets, 
scissors, needles, venniHion in bags, copper and iron pots 
wd kettles ; the whole valued at about £500 sterling. 
Tbe bales of goods being opened, the blankets, cloths, 
*nd cottons were cut up into small pieces, each sufficient 
to make for one person a wrapper, a shirt, a pair of leg- 
gings, or whatever else it was intended for ; and the por- 
tions of the different articles intended for each tribe were 
thrown together in a heap at the bottom of the stake 
which bore its name. This business took up several 
hours, as there were no less than 420 Indians to be 
^rod. The presents having been all prepared, the 
chiefs were ordered to assemble their warriors, who were 
loitering about the grounds at the outside of the lawn. 
fa a few minutes they all came, and having been drawn 
up in a large circle, a speech was delivered by the Brir 
cish officer superintending the distribution of the presents. 
In this they ^vcre told that their great and good father 
vk lived on the opposite side of the Big Lake was ever 

attentive to the happiness of all his faithful people ; and 
that, with his accustomed bounty, he had sent the pre- 
sents which now lay before them to his good children the 
Indians ; that he had sent the guns, the hatchets, and 
the ammunition for the young men, and the clothing for 
the aged, the women, and the children ; that he hoped 
the young men would have no occasion .to employ their 
weapons in fighting against enemies, but merely in hunt- 
ing ; and that he recommended it to them to be attentive 
to the old, and to share bountifully with them' what they 
gained by the chase ; that he trusted the Great Spirit 
would give them bright suns and clear skies, and a fa- 
vourable season for hunting ; and that when another year 
should pass over, if he still continued to find them good 
children, he would not fail to renew his bounties, by 
sending them more presents from across the Big Lake. 

" This speech was delivered in English, but interpret- 
ers attended, who repeated it to the different tribes in 
their respective dialects or languages, paragraph by pa- 
ragraph, at the end of every one of which the Indians 
signified their satisfaction by a loud exclamation of 
' Hoah! Hoah!' The speech ended, the chiefs were 
called forward, and their several heaps were shown to 
them, and committed to their care. They received them 
with thanks, and beckoning to their warriors, a number 
of young men quickly started from the crowd, and in 
less than three minutes the presents were conveyed from 
the lawn, and put on board canoes. The utmost regula- 
rity and propriety were manifested on this occasion in the 
behaviour of every Indian : there was not the smallest 
wrangling amongst them about their presents, nor was the 
least spark of jealousy observable in any one tribe about 
what the other had received ; each one took up the heap 
allotted to it, and departed without speaking a word." 

This annual distribution of presents from the British 
Government to the Indians in Canada has been continued 
ever since, though from 1816 the amount was consider- 
ably reduced. Some interesting information respecting 
the " Indian department " and the nature of the presents 
was given in a Parliamentary Report which was pub- 
lished about three years ago ; the reader will find an ab- 
stract of it in Nos. 181 and 183, vol. IV. of the ' Penny 
Magazine.* The engraving at the end of this article is 
taken from an original drawing of a gentleman who wit- 
nessed the scene in 1836. 

Before the French were dispossessed of Canada, their 
traders had pushed the fur-trade westward, as far as the 
banks of the Saskatchewan ; and Mackenzie learned that 
two of the more enterprising had attempted to cross the 
Rocky Mountains to reach the Pacific Ocean, but with 
what success was unknown. They did not go very far 
northward, as that quarter was considered the ground of 
the Hudson's Bay Company, and belonging to the English. 
But when English subjects in Canada, after that province 
became a colony of Great Britain, entered into the fur-trade, 
a new impulse was given to it. At first the trade was 
pursued irregularly, and the English adventurers did not 
go far from Lake Superior, contenting themselves with 
what are now considered short expeditions of 1500 or 
; 1600 miles from Montreal. But one bolder than his 
fellows, Mr. Thomas Curr^, proceeded with four canoes 
to Fort Bourbon, a deserted French post on the Saskat- 
chewan : " his risk and toil were well recompensed, for 
he came back the following spring with his canoes filled 
with fine furs, and was satisfied never again to return to 
the Indian country." His example and success roused 
others, until the keenness of the competition almost de- 
stroyed the trade, from the extravagant prices often given 
by one trader for furs, to prevent them from falling into 
the hands of another, and al?o by the unscrupulous con- 
duct of a large portion of them, which often brought on 
disastrous collisions with the natives. This paved the 
way for the junction of the fur-traders of Canada in 1783, 
which assumed the name of the " North- West Company." 

Digitized by 




[February 3, 1638. 

The North- West Company carried on their operations 
by a system well calculated to stimulate the zeal of their 
servants. The Canadian-French voyageurs were already 
trained to the service ; and their Indian elasticity of 
spirit served them more effectually than that mere capa- 
city for enduring fatigue, which was the chief character- 
istic of the Orkney or Highland servants of the Hudson's 
Bay Company.* The clerks of the North- West Com- 
pany were animated by the prospect of becoming partners 
after a certain period of servitude — a strong stimulus to 
active young men. The greater number of these clerks 
have been, and are, Scotchmen — some of them more than 
usually intelligent, active, and enterprising, such as Sir 
Alexander Mackenzie * — the rest stout-hearted M'Do- 
nalds, Frazers, Campbells, M'Leods, M'Gillivrays, and 
M'Vicars, who, by steady habits and active perseverance, 
became, many of them, rich men, as well as respected 
colonists. The ordeal which they had to undergo was a 
severe one, for, they were exposed to perpetual risk of life, 
as well as to many privations. But the hope of reward 
sweetened their residence in a country where no sign of 
civilization was' to be seen — " not a church or chapel, or 
House, or garden, nor even a cow, or a horse, or a sheep ; 
nothing during the entire day ; just rocks, rivers, lakes, 
portages, waterfalls, arid large forests ; bears roaring a 

* The reader may be reminded that Sir Alexander Mackenzie, 
who rose from a clerkship to be an influential director of the North- 
West Company, is the traveller whose expeditions to the Pacific 
Ocean, and down the river, which bears his name, to the Polar Sen, 
have rendered his name familiar to the public. He has added 
another to *he many proofs that commerce is a pioneer of science 
as well as civilization : for the course of the Mackenzie river, and 
much of the adjacent country, have only become geographically 
known by the recent expeditions of Sir John Franklin aud Captain 

tattoo every night, and wolves howling a reveille every 
morning." t 

The North-West Company established a kind of half- 
way house between Montreal and their posts in the inte- 
rior. This was F.ort William, on the north-west shores 
of Lake Superior. It became an extensive building, oi 
series of buildings, and was managed like a garrison, a 
number of partners being frequently resident in it, who 
acted as commanding officers, the clerks as subalterns, 
while the French-Canadians and a number of Indians com- 
posed the troops. A portion of the clerks and voyageurs 
were occupied during the summer in carrying from Mon- 
treal to Fort William the Btores and articles of traffic, and in 
taking back to Montreal the furs brought to Fort William 
from the interior. This usually occupied the summer, for 
the route up and down, between Montreal and Fort William 
is about 2500 miles ; but, toilsome as it was, it was holiday 
work compared with the interior. The routes between 
Fort William and the interior posts, such as Fort Chipe- 
wayan on the Athabasca Lake, were by chains of lakes 
and rivers, interrupted by portages and dangerous rapids; 
and the "wintering" at one of these posts was occasionally 
attended by " short commons," from the failure of pro- 
visions. Both clerks and voyageurs were regularly re- 
lieved; the "winterers" being allowed, after a certain 
time, to have their turn of going to Montreal, and those 
between Montreal and Fort William being sent into the 
interior. The voyageurs who only hired themselves for 
the expedition between Montreal and Fort William re- 
ceived a much smaller amount of wages than the north- 
men or .winterers; yet so numerous are they, that in 
some villages in the neighbourhood of' Montreal there is 
scarcely a grown-up male to be found during t the *ummer. 
t Ross Cox's Travels, vol. iu, p. 266. 

(To be continued.] 

• # * The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge is at 59. Lincoln'* Inn Fields, 


Printed by Wiu.iam Clowm and Sows, Stamford Street, 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[February 10, 1838. 


[The supposed scene of Macbeth'* Interview with the Witches.] 

4t Say from whence 
Tou owe this strange intelligence, or why 
U p on this blasted heath you stop our way 
With such prophetic greeting ? " 


Thb traveller passing westward through the province 
of Moray is charmed with the beauty of the prospect 
that greets him on every side. The luxuriance of fertile 
fields, irrigated by countless rills, the far-spreading forests, 
with noble mansions towering from amid their umbrage, — 
the distant hills with their purple mantles of heath glow- 
ing beneath the glory of the sinking sun, — the peaceful 
hamlets and the smoking villages, — rivers rolling in their 
ancient channels, and the sail-burthened ocean, kissing 
with tiny waves the shells upon its sandy beach,— all 
combine to form a picture of captivating beauty. But 
when he has arrived at its extremity, and where it is 
suited with the shire of Nairn, a very different scene is 
presented to his view : — a flat heath of great extent ap- 
pears, disdaining every approach to cultivation; tree- 
leas and shrubless, save at its eastern boundary, where a 
dump of stunted firs and a few bushes of furze and broom 
wring a miserable existence from the arid soil. Here 
Voi* VII. 

and there does a turf-built hovel or the roofless walls of 
a long-deserted hut rise from its surface. He feels his 
spirits sink as he contemplates the gloomy wilderness 
around him, and, on inquiry, he learns that it is called 
the Harmuir, and that common superstition assigns it as 
the spot where Macbeth had his interview with the Weird 

It would argue a frigidity of heart the reverse of envia- 
ble, were an individual not sensible of a quickening of 
the pulse^at such an announcement. He traverses the 
scene of one of ShakspeareY mightiest enchantments! 
The region around once owned the dominion of the 
" posters of the sea and land." — Here crossed they the 
path of the man of destiny, soon to become the " fiend of 
Scotland," though then one of the greatest and best of her 
warriors. There dawned on his vision the fearful dreams 
whose accomplishment would 

" To all his nights and days to come 
Give solely sov'reign sway and masterdom." 

The spectator is spell-bound, as his memory alternately 
dwells on these " bubbles of the earth," — on the king- 
killing usurper ; and last of all, on that grand incarna- 


Digitized by 




[Frbruary 10, 

tion of peerless ambition and unyielding energy in the 
accomplishment of guilty purpose, his queenly sharer of 
" the golden round.'* Suck will be the case under any 
circumstances ; but if he be overtaken there by a convul- 
sion of the elements, when earth and sky are at enmity, 
when the neighbouring sea is lashed into fury by the 
emancipated winds, and when the gull or the raven gives 
utterance to its wild notes above his head, how the interest 
is heightened ! It is worth a thousand stage elucida- 
tions of the passage. And if, haply, he should be thither 
bound, and ignorant concerning the distance, he can put 
the identical question of Banquo, " How far is't eallea to 
Forres ?•" and the only drawback to the romance would be, 
that the respondent, though " wither'd and wild in attire" 
as any Rosa or Callot could desire, would yet look ex- 
tremely like " an inhabitant o' the earth." 

The Harmuir js chiefly situated on the estate of Brodie 
of Brodie. The ruin, as seei* in the drawing, was, till 
within the termination of last century, a residence of that 
ancient race ; and forms an extremely picturesque object, 
harmonising so well, in Ha dismantled state, with the drea- 
riness of the surrounding Waste. In the extreme distance 
are the hills of Roes and Caithness. The blasted heath 

about five miles west from Fo.res, and remains as 


worthy of the epithet still, as when, seven centuries ago, 
it was so designated by the imperious Macbtth— a perfect 
image of hopeless desolation! 


[Concluded from page 48.] 

The natural line of communication between Montreal 
and Fort William would appear to be by the lakes. But 
though a portion of the traffic was carried by this line, 
the greater part of it was taken up and down the Ottawa. 
If the reader look at the map, he will see that the St. 
Lawrence, or Cataraqui* above Montreal, and lakes On* 
tario and Erie, lie south-west, and that having passed 
these, the St. Clair and lakes Huron and Superior lie 
north-west. This caused the route to be circuitous ; and 
before steamboats were brought into operation, the ne- 
cessity of using sailing vessels on the lakes made the 
time spent on the voyage a matter of far greater import- 
ance to the fur-traders, than the comparative cheapness 
and ease of the route. The route by the Ottawa was 
therefore the general one. The following description ap- 
plies to the period before Fort William lost its metropo- 
litan distinction, after the junction of the North-west and 
Hudson's Bay Companies in 1821. 

The " brigade" of canoes being assembled in the bay 
or harbour of La Chine, at the upper end of the island 
of Montreal, about the beginning of May, the usual time 
for the channel to be clear of ice — the goods for barter 
beinjj made up jn packages — the pork, biscuit, and pease 
laid in, and the voyageurs assembled, the signal is given 
for departure. They then cross to the north bank of the 
St. Lawrence, where, through the wide channel called the 
Lake of the Two Mountains, the Ottawa joins it. The 
Lake of the Two Mountains, as the mouth of the Ottawa 
is called, is about twenty miles long, and atoout three 
wide ; at the end of it, or rather the beginning of it, the 
channel contracts, and is known as the Ottawa. Fifteen 
miles higher up there are a series of rapids. The first 
actual severe toil of the voyageurs commences here. For 
about sixteen or eighteen days, during which they ascend 
about 280 miles, they have, at intervals, to lighten the 
canoes, carrying the goods and towing the vessels, or car- 
rying canoes and goods together. The places at which 
the first operation is carried on, are called les decharaes; 
the second, les portages. They then leave the Ottawa by a 
river and portage, which brings them to Lake Nippissing, 
and from thence, by another river which abounds with 
rapids, ^into the upper portion of Lake Huron. On 

reaching Lake Superior, they coast along its northern 
shores till they arrive at Fort William. 

The " winterers" are now beginning to arrive from the 
interior ; and if the cargoes of furs are abundant, the 
scene is very animating. Business is not neglected ; the 
furs are reckoned and assorted; the packages are ar- 
ranged, and marked for distribution. Accounts are settled, 
wages are paid, new engagements are entered into, and 
stores of rations are provided. But after dinner, pro- 
prietors and clerks, with interpreters and guides, make 
merry in the great hall, and voyageurs and Indians in 
the court-yard. Porkmen, or " comers and goers," ask 
the northmen about their adventures in the interior; 
northmen inquire after friends at Montreal. " Most part 
of the voyageurs, soldiers, Indians, half-breeds, &c," says 
Ross Cox, who was at Fort William in 1817, " were en- 
camped outside the fort in tents, leathern lodges, mat- 
covered huts, or wigwams. On inquiry, I ascertained 
that the aggregate number of the persons in and about 
the establishment was composed of natives of the follow- 
ing countries : England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Ger- 
many, Italy, Denmark, Sweden, Holland, Switzerland, 
United States, Canadians, Africans, and a mixed progeny 
of Creoles." Though the voyageurs are characterised 
by habits of submission and obedience, they were apt, 
like the Indians, to forget themselves during the carnival ; 
and there was therefore a prison or black-hole at Fort 
William, in which the refractory were placed till they 
recovered their senses. 

The activity of the North-west Company stirred that of 
the Hudson's Bay Company, and before the commence- 
ment of the present century there was a strong spirit of 
mutual jealousy and opposition manifested. The Hud- • 
son's Bay Company laid claim to an exclusive right of 
trading in a large portion of the country where the North- 
west Company had established their forts ; but the claim 
was disregarded. Meantime the two companies were 
spreading their forts from Canada towards the Arctic Sea, 
and from the shores of Hudson's Bay to the Rocky Moun- 
tains; and in 1813, the North-west Company bought 
Astoria on the Columbia, which district, unlucky circum- 
stances arising out of the war between Great Britain and 
the United States had compelled Mr. Astor, of New York, 
and the other partners of his company, to relinquish. The 
North-west Company, by this acquisition, extended then- 
range of establishments from the Atlantic to the Pacific. 
At last an open war broke out between the two com- 
panies; forts were surprised; parties were intercepted 
and taken prisoners ; and a country already far enough 
from the wholesome restraints of the law, was rendered 
still more lawless by the strife* But this course, which 
was suicidal to both companies, was stopped by the junc- 
tion of the North-west Company with the Hudson's Bay 
Company in 1821 ; and the united body, under the latter 
name, now claim the entire continent of North America, 
from the frontiers of Canada and the United States to 
the Frozen Ocean, and from the shores of Labrador to 
those of the Pacific, as their " field of chase." 

We may mention at least one good result from the 
junction of the two companies. The fondness of the 
Indians for rum is well known ; and the competition be- 
tween the North-west and Hudson's Bay Companies 
enabled the thoughtless creatures to dictate partly their 
own terms : rum was a principal article in demand. For 
some years, however, the Hudson's Bay Company have 
declined including rum amongst the articles of baiter ; 
and there are only about 40 puncheons of spirits sent out 
annually, the greater portion of which goes to the border 
country, where competition still prevails between the 
United States Fur Company and the Hudson's Bay 

The animals hunted in the fur country of North 
America are, bears of various kinds and colours, several 
varieties of foxes, beavers, racoons, badgers, minks, 

Digitized by 





lynxes, musk-rats, rabbits, hares, and squirrels. The 
bison, which is now found wandering north beyond the 
Great Slave Lake, is pursued bv the hunters for the sake 
of his flesh and skin. ' The fur of the black, sometimes 
called the silver fox, is considered the most valuable. 
The fur of the red fox is exported to China, where it is 
used for trimmings, linings, and robes, which are orna- 
mented in spots or waves with the black fur of the paws 
of the same animal. Sometimes the skin of the white 
arctic fox and of the polar bear are found in the packs 
brought to the European traders by the most northern 
tribes of Indians. 

The value attached to the skins of the black bears 
caused very considerable havoc to be made amongst them ; 
the flesh of the animal is also much esteemed by the 
Indians and hunters. The importation of skins of the 
black bear into England in 1783 was 10,500; in 1803, 
it was 25,000 ; but there has been a very great decline 
since that time, for the entire number of bear skins (colour 
not specified, but mostly black) imported into England 
in 1835 from the British North American colonies was 
4,829; there were, however, 10,184 in the same year 
imported from the United States. A black bear's skin, 
that once fetched from twenty to forty guineas, is not now 
worth more than from twenty to sixty shillings. 

The beaver has suffered more severely than any other 
of the fur-producing animals. In 1788, upwards of 
170,000 were exported from Canada; and in 1808, no 
less than 126,927 were sent from Quebec alone to this 
country. The value of these last has been estimated at 
118,994/. 1*. 3d. sterling, at an average of 18s. 9d. for 
each skin. These numbers could not be kept up without 
total extermination; and we find, accordingly, that in 
1827 the importation into London from a fur country of 
more than four times the extent of that which was occu- 
pied in 1743, was but little more than 50,000. In 1829 
there was an increase, there being 72,199 beaver skins 
imported from the British North American colonies, and 
4,200 from the United States; aud in 1835 there were 
85,933 imported from our own colonies, and 2,316 from 
the United States. The skin of another animal, the 
coypu, has, since 1810, been imported from South 
America, under the name of Nutria skins, and it is now 
largely used as a substitute for beaver skins.* 

J. H. Pelly, Esq., governor of the Hudson's Bay Com- 
pany, in evidence given before the Committee of the 
House of Commons on the Aborigines of British Settle- 
ments (March, 1837), says that the Company now main- 
tain beaver preserves in their territories. Whenever the 
animal begins to disappear in any quarter, the post or 
fort in the neighbourhood is removed, and of course the 
natives also. 

The importations of fur-skins into England in 1835 
were: — 

North American 


Total from 



all Countries. 

Bear . . 4,829 



Beaver . . 85,933 



Fitch . . 12 



Marten. . 71,068 



Mink . . 25,297 



Musquash 1,147,725 



Nutria . . 4 



Otter . . 17,989 



Seal . / 322,186 



The numbers re-exported in the same year, of those 
species of which the Custom-House Returns have been 
given, were :— - 

* See the « Penny Cyclopaedia :* article! Brar, Beater, Fur 
TtAot, fte. The bear, beaver, bison, &c, have been described in 
U* 'Penny Hagasiat. • 

Countries to which 





Russia . . . 





Prussia • . 





Germany • . 





Holland . . 





Belgium . . 





France . . 





Italy . . . 
Turkey . . 





- — 




China . . . 





United States 

of America 





11,414 17.961 221,490 24,444 

In 1836 the number of undressed furs entered for 
home consumption was : — Bear, 2322 ; beaver, 87,473 ; 
cat and lynx, 58,937; coney, 665,991; ermine, 284,488 ; 
fitch, 122,741; fox, 18,977; marten, 197,804; mink, 
62,467; musquash, 784,379; nutria, 1,328,017; otter, 
952; racoon, 1525; and squirrel, 2,236,725. 

Mackenzie gives the following as the produce of the 
North-west Company in 1798, which may be compared 
with the produce of 1835, from an extent of territory at 
least six times the size of that hunted by the North-west 
Company in 1798, for it includes the importation into 
England from the United States : — 

Produce of the North-west Company to 1798. 

Beaver . . 

. 106,000 

Mink . . . 

. 1,800 

Bear . . . 


Lynx . . . 

. 6,000 

Fox . . . 




Kitt Fox 


Racoon . ♦ 


Otter . . . 


Wolf . . . 

. 3,800 

Musquash . 

• 17,000 

Elk . . . 


Marten . . 

. 32,000 

Deer . . . 


with 1200 dressed deer-skins, 500 robes of bison-skins, 
and 1650 other skins. 

The most noted of the numerous establishments of the 
Hudson's Bay Company are Churchill Fort, York Fac- 
tory, and Moose Fort, on Hudson's Bay ; Fort William 
on Lake Superior; Norway House on Lake Winipeg; 
various forts and houses on the rivers which descend from 
the Rocky Mountains, such as Carlton House on the 
north branch of the Saskatchewan, Chesterfield House 
on the south branch, and Cumberland House on the 
united or main stream of the same river, which falls into 
Lake Winipeg; Fort Chipewyan on the Athabasca Lake, 
from whence Mackenzie set out on his two expeditions; 
Fort Resolution on Great Slave Lake ; and Forts Simp- 
son, Norman, and Good Hope, on the Mackenzie River; 
the latter is the most northerly establishment, and is 
about 3800 miles from Montreal. The furs, however, 
which are procured at the most northern establishments 
are shipped from Hudson's Bay. All the routes taken by 
the fur-traders are chains of lakes and rivers, connected 
by links of portages, some of them very toilsome to the 
voyageurs, who must carry canoes and packages over 

We may here mention some of the distances between 
a few of the forts, though the mere enumeration of the 
number of miles, without a statement of the portages on 
the routes, their length and character, will give a faint 
idea of the nature of the travelling : — From Fort William 
on Lake Superior to Cumberland House the distance is 
1018 miles; from Cumberland House to Fort Chipe- 
wyan, 840 miles ; from Fort Chipewyan to Fort Resolu- 
tion on Great Slave Lake is 240 ; the Mackenzie issues 
from Great Slave Lake; the first fort on it, Fort Simpson, 
is 338 miles from Fort Resolution; the second, Fort 
Norman, is 236 miles lower down than Fort Simpson; 
and Fort Good Hope is 312 miles below Fort Norman, 
or 886 miles from Fort Resolution. Yet the clerks in 
charge of these forts look upon each other as neighbours. 
A winter's residence at one of the northern fotts must be 


Digitized by 



[February 10, 

indeed dreafy. "■ At a great number of our posts," says 
Mr. Pelly, the governor of the Hudson's Bay Company, 
" the potatoes are cut off even by summer frosts, and 
they cannot grow corn." Pemmican, or dried meat, is 
then the chief article of subsistence. Mr. Pelly was 
asked before the Parliamentary Committee — ** The posts 
you state to be very numerous; at those posts is there an 
ample supply of food for the winter consumption always 
laid up ?" — " There is," he replies. " If natives, suf- 
fering from the effects of scarcity, apply during the winter 
at those posts, do they receive such supplies as the com- 
pany are enabled to afford them?" — " Always, I believe. 
.... The natives, if they are in a state of starvation, come 
down and live at the post altogether, and are then main- 
tained by the Company." 

We have already mentioned that the clerks of the 
united fur companies are mostly Scotchmen. Mr. Pelly 
says, " If they conduct themselves well as clerks, they are 
promoted, and become traders, and afterwards factors. 
The chief factors and chief traders, as they are called, 

participate in the profits ; they have emoluments from 
the profits of the trade." 

The voyageurs, or French-Canadian boatmen, are cer- 
tainly a peculiar generation of men. As far as general 
knowledge is concerned, they are very ignorant, and they 
are also very superstitious : of which an amusing in- 
stance is related by Sir John Franklin. On his second 
journey, when he and Captain Back were taking obser- 
vations, one of the voyageurs watched the operation ; and 
hearing the words *' now," " stop," always followed by 
silence, he went to his companions and told them that 
the officers were raising the devil ! But the voyageurs 
are, notwithstanding, an affectionate, attached, and labo- 
rious class of men. They are easily offended if their 
prejudices are touched, and they sometimes display In- 
dian vindictiveness. But their French origin is easily 
indicated ; bestow some kind words, a little of that which 
can hardly be termed flatteiy, praising their skill as 
boatmen, &c, and they will do any service for those in 
command over them. 

[Canadian Voyageurs, from Captain Basil Hall's North American Sketches. | 

The wood-cut above represents voyageurs of Sir John 
Franklin's canoe, on his journey to the Polar Sea, taken 
from Captain Basil Hall's sketches. A few extracts from 
the narratives of Sir John Franklin, Captain Back, and 
Doctor Richardson, will illustrate the nature of the service 
in which the voyageurs are engaged. The first extract is 
rather long, but it shows the mode of travelling through 
the fur country. 

"The boats of the expedition," savs Sir John Frank- 

lin, in his ' Second Journey to the shores of the Polar Sea,' 
"had advanced from Hudson's Bay into the interior 
I twelve hundred miles before they were joined by the 
officers; whilst the latter, from taking a more circuitous 
route by New York and Canada, travelled two thousand 
and eight hundred miles to reach the same point. This 
junction took place early in the morning of the 29th of 
June, 1825, in the Methye River, latitude 56° 10' north, 
longitude T0S° 55 west, which is almost at the head of 

Digitized by 





the waters that flow from the north into Hudson's Bay. 
In no part of the journey was the presence of the officers 
more requisite to animate and encourage the crews, be- 
cause the river itself is usually so shallow through its 
whole course of forty miles, as scarcely to admit of a flat- 
bottomed bateau floating with -half its cargo, much less 
our boats, which drew, when loaded, from eighteen to 
twenty inches. This river and its impediments being 
surmounted, the Methye Portage, ten miles and three- 
quarters long, was at no great distance, which is always 
held up to the inexperienced voyageur as the most laborious 
part of the journey. But whatever apprehension the men 
might have entertained on this subject, seemed to vanish 
on our landing amongst them ; and Dr. Richardson and 
myself were received by all with cheerful, delighted coun- 
tenances, and by none more warmly than by our excel- 
lent friend and former interpreter Augustus the Esqui- 
maux,* and Ooligbuck, whom he had brought from 
Churchill as his companion. A breakfast was quickly 
prepared by Mr. Fraser, a clerk of the Hudson s Bay 
Company, under whose charge the boats had been since 
their departure from Cumberland House ; and I then 
inspected the boats and stores, which I was rejoiced to 
find were in good order. We had brought letters from 
the relatives of several of the party, and another hour was 
allowed to read them. 

" At ten a.m. we began to ascend the stream, but very 
soon found that it was necessary for the whole party to 
walk in the water, and drag the boats through the mud. 
Nor could we long advance even by this mode, but were 
compelled either to carry some of the cargo along the 
shore, where walking was at all practicable, or else to 
take half the lading in a boat to a part where the river 
was deeper, and then return for the remainder. From 
thus travelling the distance twice over, it was the fifth 
day before we reached the lake from whence its waters 

" On the evening of the 30th of June, we witnessed one 
of those violent but momentary gusts of wind which oc- 
cur not unfrequently in the spring and autumn, and which 
prove so destructive to the forests in this country. It was 
preceded by calm and very sultry weather, with loud 
thunder and vivid lightning. In an instant the tents were 
overthrown, and even very large trees were bent by its 
force into a horizontal position ; indeed, for a few seconds, 
the scene around us appeared one of almost entire devas- 
tation. When the violence of the squall was past, we 
had great reason tQ be pleased at its occurrence, for the 
strong steady breeze and heavy rain that succeeded car-, 
tied away the myriads of mosquitoes by which we had 
been tormented the whole day. 

" Having crossed the Methye Lake, we arrived at the 
portage of that name. Here it was necessary to make an 
equal division of the cargoes, and to devise means for the 
conveyance of the boats. The packages amounted to one 
hundred and sixteen, weighing from seventy to ninety 
pounds each, exclusive of the three boats and the men's 
personal luggage ; and there were nineteen men of the 
boats' crews, two Canadians, and two boys, to carry these 
burdens. At first the packages were equally distributed 
among this party : but several of the men, who had been 
reduced by their previous exertions, became lame ; among 
these were the Esquimaux, and we were, therefore, com- 
pelled to make other arrangements, and ultimately to em- 
ploy the crew of my canoe, though the great fatigue they 

* This worthy man, whote conduct is spoken of in the highest 
terms by Sir John Franklin, on hearing that Captain Back was 
ones more in the country in 1833, set off from H jdson'f Bay to 
join him, in company with a Canadian and an Iroquoif . They lost 
their way, separated, and Augustus perished from want. " He 
was," says Captain Back, " a faithful, disinterested, kind-hearted 
creature, who had won the regard, not of myself only, but I msy 
add, of Sir J. Franklin and Dr. Richardson also, by qualities which, 
wherever found, in the lowest as in the highest forms of social life, 
are the ornament and charm of humanity." 

had suffered in our rapid journey from Canada, made me 
desirous of sparing them for the present 

w The boats were the heaviest and most difficult articles 
to transport ; one of the small boats was carried on the 
shoulders of eight men, of whom Mr. Fraser undertook to 
he one, as an example to the rest. Another of the same 
size was dragged by other eight men ; and the largest 
was conveyed on a truck made for the purpose on the 
spot, to which service the lame were attached. 

" Each day's journey, and also the intermediate stages, 
were determined by the places where water could be pro- 
cured, and our mode of travelling was as follows : — rising 
at three a.m., the men carried a part of their burden to 
the first stage, and continued to go backwards and for- 
wards till the whole was deposited. They then slept for 
a few hours, and in the cool of the evening the boats were 
brought up. By these means everything was ready at 
the western end of the portage early on Monday the 11th 
of July. 

"With reference to the Methye Portage I may remark, 
that except the steep hill at its western extremity, the road 
is good and tolerably level, and it appeared that much 
fatigue and suffering might have been spared by using 
trucks. Accordingly, two were made by our carpenters 
at Fort Chipewyan in 1821, for the return of the expedi* 
tion, and they answered extremely well. I mention this 
Circumstance in the hope that some such expedient will 
be adopted by the traders for the relief of their voyageurs, 
who have twice in every year to pass over this ridge of 

The next extract is from the narrative of Captain Back's 
more recent expedition to the Arctic Sea in 1833 — 1835. 
It is short ; and refers to a source of annoyance which 
diminishes greatly the pleasure of the brief summer in 
the fur country — the myriads of mosquitoes and sand- 

" There is certainly no form of wretchedness among 
those to which the chequered life of a voyageur is ex- 
posed, at once so great and so humiliating as the torture 
inflicted by those puny bloodsuckers. To avoid them is 
impossible ; and as for defending himself, though for a time 
he may go on crushing by thousands, he cannot long 
maintain the unequal conflict ; so that at last, subdued 
by pain and fatigue, he throws himself in despair with 
his face to the earth, and half suffocated in his blanket, 
groans away a few hours of sleepless rest." 

Dr. Richardson relates another anecdote illustrative of 
the daring and ferocity of the grisly bear : — 

" A party of voyageurs, who had been employed all 
day in tracking a canoe up the Saskatchewan, had seated 
themselves in the twilight by a fire, and were busy in pre- 
paring their supper, when a large grisly bear sprang over 
the canoe that was tilted behind them, and seizing one of 
the party by the shoulder, carried him off. The rest fled 
in terror, with the exception of a man named Bourasso, 
who grasping his gun, followed the bear as it was retreat- 
ing leisurely with its prey. He called to his unfortunate 
comrade, that he was afraid of hitting him if he fired at 
the bear, but the latter entreated him to fire without he- 
sitation, as the bear was squeezing him to death. On this 
he took a deliberate aim, and discharged his piece into 
the body of the bear, who instantly dropped its prey to 
pursue Bourasso* He escaped with difficulty, and the 
bear ultimately retreated to a thicket, where it is supposed 
to have died; but the curiosity of die party not being a 
match for their fears, the fact of its decease was not as- 
certained. The man who was rescued had his arm frac- 
tured, and was otherwise severely bitten, but finally re- 

Ross Cox tells a similar story : the bear in this instance 
seized a voyageur from a group of ten Canadians seated 
round a blazing fire, enjoying a meal of deer's-flesh. As 
one of the party, several of whom followed, was watching 
an opportunity to fire, the prisoner called out, "Tires' 

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[Februxh* WJjp 

tirez! mon cher frere, si tu m'aimes. Alatfcte! St la 
t&te !" (Fire, fire, my dear friend, if you love me— at the 
head, the head!) The bear was accordingly shot over 
the right temple, and was quickly afterwards despatched 
with a couteau de chasse, or hunting-knife. The liberated 
voyageur escaped without injury, except an ugly scratch 
over the face. 

Domestic Waters (concluded). 

3. River Water, We have stated that when rain fells 
on a mountainous district, the soil of which is porous, 
a large portion of the water percolates through the soil, 
and becomes the source of springs ; but there are a large 
number of mountains in which the surface exposed to the 
weather is of a very hard and compact texture, such as 
granite, grauwacke slate, mountain limestone, &c, through 
which water cannot penetrate ; or if the detritus of the 
upper portion of rock should have formed the materials 
for a thin stratum of vegetable soil, still that stratum 
would follow the contour of the surface, and would not 
present a sufficient body of soft soil to impart a mineral 
character to the water which soaks through it. Again ; 
if any fissure be cleft in the rock, and connected with 
other fissures near the base of a mountain, the rain 
might flow through these channels without imbibing any 
new property from contact with the hard insoluble ma- 
terials of the rock. 

In all such cases as these, the water, when it has col- 
lected into one united stream at the bottom, becomes a 
river; and the water itself assumes the character of river 
water. It will thus be seen that the difference between 
spring water and river water does not arise from any dis- 
tinctive qualities resident originally in the water itself, 
but from the path which it has followed previous to its 
employment by us. Spring water, by passing in very 
minute streams through a porous soil, gets into close and 
intimate contact not only with sandy or earthy soil, but 
with the metallic or saline bodies which may be con- 
tained in it, and is therefore much more likely to combine 
with a portion of those bodies in its passage than when 
the water merely flows over their surface. The least 
effect produced on water in this way is (as we have said) 
by lime, which makes it hard spring water. But in the 
streams which merely flow over the surface, small por- 
tions of sand, gravel, earth, pebbles, vegetable matter, 
&c, are washed down with the water, and mixed with it, 
but not chemically combined with it — a distinction worthy 
of notice. This difference may be illustrated thus : 
filtering may convert dirty river water into pure water 
by removing the impurities, because they are only me- 
chanically mixed with the water ; but filtering will not 
convert hard water into soft, because the lime which 
makes it hard is chemically combined with the water, and 
cannot be removed by filtration. 

If there be a reservoir or lake at an elevated part of 
the mountain, this may furnish a source from which a 
small but constant supply may be furnished; and if 
there be several such reservoirs on different mountains 
and in the valleys between them, they may all ultimately 
meet in one channel ; and thus the whole quantity of rain 
which falls over a great extent of mountain country may, 
after trickling down in narrow tortuous paths, be ulti- 
mately combined into one stream, which thus becomes a 
river. All the great rivers have an origin similar to this : 
the Brahmapootra and the Ganges take their rise from the 
Himalaya Mountains at the north of India, the highest 
in the world ; the Nile derives its waters from the rain 
which pours down in tremendous torrents upon the 
Mountains of the Moon in Central Africa ; the Amazon 
collects the waters of a long range of the Andes Moun- 
tains on the western side of South America ; the Missis- 
sippi rises in the Rocky Mountains of North America, 

&c. The smaller 'rivers either follow a shorter course ' 
before they reach the sea, or else rise in a less moun- 
tainous district, and consist of but a few springs or 
streams instead of an assemblage of many. 

River water is the most important source for domestic 
and for dietary use, for two reasons ; 1st, the extensive 
course which the rivers follow from their source to the 
sea renders them available for a large number of towns ; 
and 2nd, the water is not so much affected by extraneous 
mineral bodies as spring water is allowed to be. Nearly 
all large towns are situated near one or more running 
rivers, both for convenience of manufactures and for 
domestic uses ; but it frequently happens that the water 
in one river is not so fit for drinking as that of another 
at some little distance from it. Hence the construction 
of those stupendous buildings, the aqueducts of the an- 
cients, many of which remain at the present day as 
monuments both of the industry of the early ages and of 
their ignorance of the principles of hydrostatics ; for the 
source from which the water was conveyed was always 
higher than the place to which it flowed ; and had they 
known the law that pipes conveyed underground, or 
along the surface of the ground, from one station to ano- 
ther, would have perfectly answered the purpose, however 
deep the intervening valley might be (provided the first 
station were higher than the second), they would have 
been under no necessity for building the immense aque- 
ducts to which we have alluded. It has however been 
suggested that the nonemployment of water-pipes in early 
periods was not due so much to ignorance of that law as 
to the want of strong materials for the pipes. 

The remains of a splendid aqueduct are visible near 
Paris, called the aqueduct of Maintenon, and built by 
Louis XIV. There are three courses of arches one above 
another, carried across a valley, and on the top course 
a stream flows from Marly to Versailles. There is also 
near Paris a subterranean aqueduct, constructed of free- 
stone, the length of which is 14,920 yards, which has an 
inclination of an inch and a half in 100 yards, and has 
a foot-path at the side along its whole extent. 

The recent improvements at London Bridge almost 
induce a forgetfulness that there were waterworks at that 
spot a few years ago. Many of our readers have, how- 
ever, probably seen them. An immense wheel, 32 feet 
in diameter, with other appendages, were employed to 
raise water from the Thames to a considerable height, 
from whence it was conveyed in pipes to supply houses in 
that part of London. These works were commenced in 
1581, when Queen Elizabeth granted a lease of one arch 
*of London Bridge, for the purpose of erecting water- 
works at that spot. Two years afterwards, the second 
arch was also leased for the same purpose ; and at dif- 
ferent periods three more arches were added. The ma- 
chinery worked under the arches of the bridge, and 
brought up 45,000 hogsheads of water per day. When 
however, in 1*763, two arches of the bridge were thrown 
into one, by the removal of a pier, the central flow of water 
was so much increased that the side arches, at which the 
machinery was placed, lost much of their wonted supply, 
and the quantity of water brought up diminished to 5000 
hogsheads per day. Another arch was therefore granted, 
and Mr. Smeaton erected new works in 1767. When, 
however, the new London Bridge was built, the whole of 
the waterworks were removed, and the supply of water 
to the metropolis was undertaken by the various water 
companies which had been from time to time established. 

The most celebrated of these companies is the New 
River Company, which dates its origin from the year 
1608, when, by authority of government, the corporation 
formed a plan for bringing the water of two springs in 
Hertfordshire to London. The undertaking, however, 
proved too vast for them, and they made over the powers 
vested in them to Mr. Hugh Myddleton, who brought 
this great project to a successful issue. In doing so, 

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however, he ruined himself, and was obliged to seek for 
funds elsewhere: James I. provided him with what 
funds were necessary, on condition that he should have 
half the profits. In 1613 water first flowed into the 
New River Head at Pentonville, after a tortuous path of 
nearly 40 miles from the source in Hertfordshire. This 
winding course was given to it in order to insure a certain 
degree of inclination in the bed of the artificial channel 
by which the water was brought, and which inclination 
is three inches in a mile. Two hundred bridges cross 
this river from its source to its termination. 

The other water companies on the north side of the 
Thames are the Chelsea, East London, Grand Junction, 
and West Middlesex. In 1821 a committee of the House 
of Commons was appointed to inquire into the supply of 
water to the metropolis ; when it was found that the total 
quantity supplied by these four companies, by the New 
River, and the London-Bridge Waterworks, in one year, 
amounted to 155,381,038 hogsheads, which supplied 
120,000 houses. 

More than half of the whole quantity of water consumed 
is derived from the Thames. The unavoidable impurity 
of the water of a river which is the receptacle of the re- 
fuse matter of a large city, has given rise to inquiries into 
the practicability of obtaining wdter from purer rivers, in 
the same way as has been accomplished in the case of the 
New River. Mr. Telford, by order of the House of Com- 
mons, has surveyed several districts near the metropolis, 
with the view of ascertaining whether a supply could be 
obtained by such means. He found that the Verulam, a 
river flowing between Watford and St. Albans, produced 
16,200,000 gallons of water daily; a quantity Which is 
supposed to oe amply sufficient for the supply of those 
ports of London north of the Thames, which have hitherto 
been supplied with Thames water. Mr. Telford pro- 
poses to bring the river Verulam by an artificial channel 
to the neighbourhood of Primrose Hill, where reservoirs 
might be formed at a height of 146 feet above the level 
of the Thames. 

This supply would be destined for the north-west part 
of the metropolis. The north-east part would continue 
to be supplied by the New River ; and Mr. Telford pro- 
poses to supply Southwark and Lambeth from the River 
Wandle, which rises from a spring near Croydon, and 
which he proposes to bring to Clapham Common by an 
artificial course. At the latter place he proposes to con- 
struct reservoirs at a height of 82 feet above the level of 
the Thames ; from which pipes would convey the water 
to the houses on the south side of the Thames. 

It is not improbable, that before many years have elapsed, 
some such undertaking as this will be set on foot ; al- 
though we are not aware that any steps have been yet 
l taken towards its accomplishment. 

If we place out of consideration for a moment the de- 
ficient purity of the Thames water, we cannot but admit 
that the mode in which so large a city as London is sup- 
plied with water is very admirable. There are but few 
houses which have not an adequate supply. The system 
of conduit pipes, which run like arteries through the 
streets of the metropolis, are kept constantly filled by be* 
iag in connection with reservoirs which are always ele- 
vated. There is an important law in hydrostatics, by 
virtue of which, water flowing from an elevated source 
will rise to an equal elevation if conveyed in pipes from 
oae station to another. To take an example : the New 
Ri*er, when it has flowed into the New River Head at 
Pentonville, is forced up into an elevated reservoir by steam 
power. This reservoir is equal in height to almost any 
botise in London : consequently, when the main pipes are 
carried from that reservoir to any street, and leaden pipes 
are carried from those mains through a house, the water 
from the reservoir will penetrate to any required apart- 
■***, provided that the absolute height is not greater 
th& the height of the reservoir. 

What we have now said about river water, as connected 
with the supply of London, will serve to indicate more 
or less the plans pursued in other towns. In some places, 
water is brought to the houses in carts. In others, pumps 
are fixed at convenient spots, from which spring water is 
obtained. Those who, like the inhabitants of London, 
have a plentiful supply of water, can scarcely conceive 
the misery and filthiness which follow a deficiency of this 
useful article. There is perhaps no great city in the 
world which excels London in cleanliness ; and although 
this may in part be doubtlessly attributed to the habits of 
the people, it is equally certain that the plentiful supply 
of water is an important agent in the continuance of that 
very desirable condition. 

4. Lake Water. Our principal purpose in making a 
distinction between lake water and other waters, is to no- 
tice the contrivances which have been adopted for puri- 
fying stagnant or foul water. Most of the large lakes, 
such as those in Canada, are either salt, like the ocean, 
or fresh and pure for drinking, like river water. They 
are the receptacles or reservoirs of numerous rivers, the 
water of which flows through those lakes to the ocean. 
But if a body of water such as we should call a pond 
have no outlet by which the water can flow, it must inevi- 
tably become unfit for drinking, from the decomposition 
of animal and vegetable matter, and the presence of dirt, 
gravel, &c. It must be borne in mind, that evaporation 
Conveys away only the pure water in the state of vapour, 
and leaves the saline and other impurities behind, whereby 
the water becomes more and more contaminated. It is 
to such causes as these that we must attribute the forma- 
tion of the Natron Lakes of Egypt, in which a quantity of 
carbonate of soda is found. The evaporation from such 
lakes takes up only the pure water. 

If water be pure in itself, it soon acquires an unplea- 
sant taint if left stationary, or deprived of free access of 
air: a fact which our own water-cisterns would soon 
show, were not the supply of water so abundant. Dr. 
Saunders, in his " Treatise on Mineral Waters," says, 
" No water carried to sea becomes putrid sooner than 
that of the Thames. When a cask is opened, after be- 
ing kept a month or two, a quantity of carburetted or sul- 
phuretted hydrogen escapes, and the water is so black 
and offensive as scarcely to be borne. Upon racking it 
off, however, into large earthen vessels, and exposing it to 
the air, it gradually deposits a quantity of black slimy 
mud, becomes clear as crystal, and remarkably sweet and 

It may with correctness be said, that spring water is 
filtered river water ; for by its percolation through sand 
or gravel it becomes strained or screened from the impu- 
rities which it held in solution. But at the Bame time it 
imbibes that slight mineral taint which we allude to by 
the term " hard." If therefore we could obtain it in a state 
of purity without the addition of lime, we should gain a 
decided advantage. Now this is accomplished by the 
filter ', which has always some porous substance through 
which the water percolates. Northamptonshire sandstone 
and Derbyshire gritstone are frequently employed for this 
purpose. They are cut into the form of a hollow basin, 
which is filled with the impure water. The water pene- 
trates through the pores of the stone, and is, in its pas- 
sage, freed from all the impurities which before tainted 
it. One defect of this mode of purifying is, that the pores 
of the stone become gradually choked up by the particles 
of dirt, &c, left behind by the water. 

Mr. Moult devised an apparatus in which the filtering 
basin was placed in another vessel, and the water, being 
poured into the outer vessel, penetrated through the stone 
into the inner basin. Another filter was made by Hem- 
pel, of a composition of four parts of tobacco-pipe clay, 
and five parts of coarse sand. In fact, the contrivances 
are very numerous, but the mode of action is nearly the 
same in all. The following has been recommended as a 

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[February 10, 1838. 

simple filter for domestic use : — procure a cylindrical 
vessel of any convenient material, with a cock inserted 
near the bottom ; and to the top of it fit another vessel 
(like the steamer of an iron saucepan) with holes in the 
bottom. Cover this perforated bottom with a piece of 
coarse cloth, and over that place a layer of fine sand or 
gravel. The water is then to be poured into this upper 
vessel, from which it filters slowly through the gravel, 
into the lower vessel. It is desirable to place a thin 
board, perforated with small holes, upon the gravel, to 
prevent the water from washing up and disturbing the 
gravel. The filtered water is then drawn from the lower 
vessel by the cock. If the water be very impure, the 
stratum of gravel must be thicker. 

The choking of the pores of filtering stones by the 
sediment, &a, has led to the adoption of a mode of fil- 
tering by ascension ; in which the impure water descends 
from a height before it percolates through the filter, which 
it does in an upward direction, and thereby leaves the 
sediment to settle at the bottom. A filter of this descrip- 
tion was some years ago proposed by Professor Parrot of 
Paris, in which a reservoir or pump discharges the watef 
which is to be filtered into a tube, which may be made 
of lead or other convenient material, and which is bent 
into the syphon form. In the lower part of the bend, 
sand is placed, and a small layer of gravel is placed on 
the sand. The water, therefore, has to filter through the 
gravel and sand, depositing its grosser impurities among 
the former, and the rest among the latter. 

The same principle may be employed in a very simple 
and available manner by the following contrivance : — a 
cask or earthen pan is divided into two compartments 
by a division down the middle. This division does not, 
however, reach quite to the bottom, but only to a certain 
point, by which a communication is kept open between 
the two compartments. The bottom of the vessel is then 
to be filled with sand to a short distance above the .point ; 
and a layer of gravel is placed upon the sand. \ The wa- 
ter being then poured into one half of the vessel, filters 
down through the sand and gravel into the other division, 
from which it may be drawn off either by dipping, or by 
a cock inserted into the side of the vessel. By this ar- 
rangement, the sand may be cleared out, and the vessel 
cleaned with great ease. If the water be very impure 
and tainted, charcoal may be substituted for the sand, on 
account of its remarkable purifying qualities. 

A Prairie. — The first view of a prairie will probably ex- 
cite more surprise in the mind of a traveller in the United 
States than the grandest objects of nature. Riding day 
after day through forests, in which the cleared land is not 
of sufficient extent to interrupt the general aspect of wood, 
he breaks at once upon the view of a fine open country — he 
beholds extensive plains of the most soft and beautiful ver- 
dure, covered with flowers of every scent and hue. Occa- 
sionally on the prairie, and often in the centre, are clumps 
of fine trees, especially of the oak and black walnut, so 
charmingly disposed, that the traveller can hardly believe 
that they have not been placed by the hand of man. The 
views of tracts of country of this description are in many 
places far more extensive than are to be met with in any 
country whose land has been laid out in this way artificially, 
with a view to its beauty, and to increase its value to its pos- 
sessor. The prospect from the high grounds that often sur- 
round the prairies, comprehending verdant lawns, large 
forests, through which vast rivers are rolling their mighty 
masses of water, and fine hills in the distance, with cottages, 
cattle, horses, and deer, is altogether as fine as can be con- 
ceived anywhere. — Stewart* Three Yean in America, 

Exportation from Ireland.— There were imported into 
the Port of Liverpool from Ireland, during the year 1837, 
84,7] Oxen and Cows, 316 Calves, 225,050 Sheen, 24,669 
Lambs, 595,422 Pigs, 3,414 Horses, 319 Mules; the value 
of which is computed to be above three millions sterling. 
Grain and other descriptions of agricultural produce to an 
immense amount were likewise imported from Ireland ; and 
it has been stated on good authority, that the value of the 

single article Poultry-feathers, annually brought from Ire- 
land to England, exceeds 500,000/. 

The Magnetic Pole.— In the year 1819, Sir Edward Parry, 
in his voyage to discover the north-west passage round 
America, sailed near the magnetic pole; and in 1824, Cap- 
tain Lyon, on an expedition for the same purpose, found 
that the magnetic pole was then situated in 63 26' 51" north 
latitude, and in 80° 51' 25" west longitude. It appears, 
from later researches, that the law of terrestrial magnetism 
is of considerable complexity, and the existence of more than 
one magnetic pole in either hemisphere has been rendered 
highly probable ; that there is one in Siberia seems to be 
decided by the recent observations of M. Hansteen,— it is 
in longitude 1 02° east of Greenwich, and a little to the north 
of the 60th degree of latitude : so that, by these data, the 
two magnetic poles in the northern hemisphere are about 
180° distant from each other : but Captain Ross, who is 
just returned from a voyage in the Polar seas, has ascertained 
that the American magnetic pole is in 70° 14' north lati- 
tude, and 96° 40' west longitude. The magnetic equator 
does not exactly coincide with the terrestrial equator ; it 
appears to be an irregular curve, inclined to the earth's 
equator at an angle of about 12°, and crossing it in at least 
three points, in longitude 113° 14' west, and 66° 46' east of 
the meridian of Greenwich, and again somewhere between 
1 56° 30' of west longitude, and 1 16° east.— Mrs. SomerviUe's 
Connexion of the Sciences. 

Temperature of the Polar Circle. — Captain Back says, in 
his 'Journey to the Arctic Sea,' that he frequently pursued 
his astronomical observations when the thermometer stood 
at 70° below zero. u Such indeed (he remarks) was the 
abstraction of heat, that, with eight large logs of dry wood 
in the fireplace of a small room, I could not get the ther- 
mometer higher than 12° plus. Ink and paint froze. The 
sextant cases, and boxes of seasoned wood, principally fir, 
all split v Nor was the sensation particularly agreeable to 
our persons ; the skin of the hands especially became dry, 
cracked, and opened into unsightly and smarting gashes, 
which we were obliged to anoint with grease. On ono oc- 
casion, after washing my face within three feet of the fire, 
my hair was actually clotted with ice before I had time to 
dry it. From these facts some idea may, perhaps, be formed 
of the excessive cold. . It seemed to have driven all living 
things from us . we had been accustomed to see a few white 
partridges about, but even these, hardy as they are, had dis- 
appeared. Once, indeed, a solitary raven, whose croak made 
me run out to look at him, swept round the house, but im- 
mediately winged his flight to the westward. Nothing but 
the passing wind broke the awful solitude of this barren 
and desolate spot." 

Restrictions on Trade.— One of the prerogatives assumed 
by the crown in those days was the right of restricting all 
mercantile dealings whatever, for a time, to a certain place. 
Thus, Matthew Paris tells us that, in the year 1245, 
Henry III. proclaimed a fair to be held at Westminster, on 
which occasion he ordered that all the traders of London 
should shut up their shops, and carry their goods to be sold at 
the fair, and that all other fairs throughout England should 
be suspended during the 15 days it was appointed to last The 
king's object, no doubt, was to obtain a supply of money from 
the tolls and other dues of the market. What made this inter- 
ference be felt as a greater hardship was, that the weather, 
all the time of the fair, happened to be excessively bad ; so 
that not only the goods were spoilt, exposed as they were to 
the rain in tents only covered with cloth, and that probably 
imperfectly enough ; but the dealers themselves, who were 
obliged to eat their victuals with their feet in the mud, and 
the wind and wet about their ears, suffered intolerably. 
Four years afterwards, the king repeated the same piece of 
tyranny, and was again seconded by the elements in u. 
similar fashion. This time, too, the historian tells us* 
scarcely any buyers came to the fair ; so that it is no wonder 
the unfortunate merchants were loud in expressing their 
dissatisfaction. But the king, he adds, did not mind the* 
imprecations of the people. — Pictorial History of England* 
vol. i. 

V T*» Ofcoa of the Society tor the Dlffbiioo of Uaeftil Knowledge la 

at 50. Lincoln's Inn KWidt, 


Printed, by William Cloww and Bow*, Stamford Street, 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[Fbbruabt 17, 1838* 


[View of Portland, from Sandifooi Castle.'] 


[From a Correspondent.] 

Desirous of enjoying a little relaxation from the bu- 
saess and bustle of London, I resolved, in the month of 
June last, to go down to Dorsetshire, and spend a few 
days in the Isle of Portland. " Portland stone " was a 
subject of some interest to me. I saw it daily as I passed 
St. Paul's, or crossed Blackfriars Bridge — while the ex- 
tensive repairs rendered necessary in the latter structure 
(Beany Mag., No. 215), drew my attention still more 
aroogly towards the nature and commercial history of a 
material, which enters largely into the composition of 
many of the public edifices of the metropolis which were 
Wk immediately after the great fire of London. Such 
of your readers as may glance at a map — say, the Society's 
map of the western part of England — will remark that 
tbe Isk of Portland seems to be in shape not unlike a 
breast of mutton suspended from the mainland by a 
string. This is rather an odd sort of comparison ; but it 
*, I think, a very fair one, bearing in mind that a map 
exhibits only a fiat surface. Old writers affirm that 
Portland was onee separated from the coast of Dorset- 
fee, and that it was, therefore, really an island : but 
*»* k is joined by a ridge which I have likened to a 
Vol. VII. 

string. It is called the Chesil Bank, and an extraordi- 
nary bank it is. Its surface or upper portion is com- 
posed of rounded loose pebbles, resting on hard blue clay. 
From the northern extremity of the Isle of Portland it 
runs along the coast of Dorsetshire, separated from it by 
a narrow channel or arm of the sea, to near Abbotsbury, 
ten miles from Portland ; it then joins the land, and 
forms the outline of the Dorset coast, from Abbotsbury 
to near Bridport, a distance of about six miles. Chesil 
Bank is in some places about a quarter of a mile broad, 
but its general breadth is much less. Mr. Smeaton, the 
engineer of Eddystone Lighthouse, thought it had been 
formed at a comparatively recent period : " but it is very 
difficult to account satisfactorily either for its first forma- 
tion or its continued existence. There is a similar and 
still more extensive ridge, bounding the Frische Haf, on 
the coast of Prussia."* 

Weymouth has been already described in the ' Penny 
Magazine* (vol. vi., No. 321) ; I shall only, therefore, 
remark, that the bay between it and the Isle is called 
Portland Road ; and that it is this bay which in the 
wood-cut above is represented as lying between Sandsfoot 
Castle and Portland. Sandsfoot Castle (old spelling, 

* M'CuUocVs • Statistical Account of the British Empire, J vol. k, 
p. 64. See also, the « Penny Cyclopadia.' article DoRSBTeaw* 

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Sandes Foote) was built by Henry VIII. It is now, as 
the wood-cut represents it, a ruin. The usual approach 
from Weymouth to Portland is by Sandsfoot Castle and 
Smallmouth SaB^-^^mall-Hiqnth -being the name of 
the mouth* of the narrow channel between the coast of 
Dorset and the Chesil Bank. A walk of a mile on 
the Smallmouth Sands conducts the tourist to a ferry, 
Yfrere, fpr ^ penny, h« is rowed across the *' Fleet " to 
the Chesil Bank. Here he may remark the nature of 
this curious ridge. The pebbles by which it is covered 
to the depth of four, five, and six feet, are chiefly of a 
white calcareous spar (these are called Portland pebbles}, 
but partly of quartz, chert, jasper, &c, so loose tha,t a 
horse's legs sink almost knee-deep at every step. The 
bank slopes on the one "side toward the open sea, and on 
the other towards the narrow inlet of the Fleet ; it rises 
gradually towards Portland, being there composed of 
pebbles as large as swans' eggs ; but in its course along 
the Dorset coast the stones gradually diminish in size ; 
at Abbotsbury they are about the size of horse-beans, 
and more westward they degenerate into mere sand. The 
smugglers, who used to land at night, were thus furnished 
with a natural gauge, by which they could tell where 
they were,* whether near to Portland, or on the coast. 
The pebbly covering is continually shifting ; a north- 
east wind sometimes clears away the pebbles in parts, 
leaving the blue clay exposed, but the bare spaces are 
soon covered again by the heavy sea which the south- 
west wind drives against the bank. At the north-west 
extremity of the Chesil Bank there was once a " Swan- 
nery," consisting of several thousand swans ; wild swans 
still build in the neighbouring swamps, and the Fleet is 
much frequented by different Kinds of water-fowl. 

It was late in the afternoon when I was landed on the 
Chesil Bank ; the sun was setting, and the evening was 
delightful : but \ must confess that my thoughts were as 
much occupied with a speculation on the nature of the 
accommodation I might meet in Portland, as with the 
beauty of the scene. Before me rose the Isle, sloping 
upwards from the Chesil Bank, but presenting on other 
sides a precipitous front to the sea ; and westward from 
the Bank was the Race of Portland, the turbulence of 
whose waters is typified on an old map by a fierce-look- 
ing monster or " sea-dragon" lashing the surface into 
foam. The people, of Portland formerly shared with the 
inhabitants of other parts of the western coasts of Eng- 
land in the odious character of " wreckers." They were 
said almost instinctively to scent the approach of a storm ; 
and while others might be anxiously breathing a wish 
that some gallant vessel which had crossed the Atlantic 
might pass in safety through the Channel, they were re- 
puted nightly to embody their malignant wishes in a 
couplet — 

" Blow wind and rise tea, 
Ship ashore 'fore day I " 

I knew not how much of this imputed character might 
be true, or, if it had been true, how much of it was mo- 
dified by other influences. In this instance I found what 
we often find through life, that to take the characters of 
individuals or communities from vague rumour or im- 
perfect data, is an injustice to ourselves as well as to 

As I aoproached the end of the Chesil Bank, I dis- 
tinguished a line of houses disposed along the slope of 
4he rock : this was the village of Fortune's Well, my in- 
tended resting-place. On reaching it, my first inquiry 
Vas, naturally enough, for an inn ; and I was directed 
to the " Portland Arms," the only house of any repute in 
the island for " the entertainment of man and beast." 
Here I met with comfortable quarters and considerate 
attention. The " Portland Arms " is not a wayside house, 
where travellers are coming and going every hour, and 
.where, therefore, you have no right to expect more than 
prompt but general civility. U is rather one of those 

retired country inns, w&ere visitors* «re treftte&wi&^a 
homely but warm-hearted attention, which places them 
almost on the footing of friends. And though the inn 
cannot boast of being as fine -as a London, hotel, it has, 
nevertheless, its reputation. George JH.; during his 
visits to Weymouth, had several times made a tour of the 
Isle of Portland; and on those occasions he made the - 
" Portland Arms" Jus head-quarters, and used t*> finish 
his day by dining at the house. The then landlady )ia4 
a recipe for making a certain famous Portland pudding, 
and the king never failed to order this pudding, in hon- 
our of the bland. She bequeathed the recipe to her 
daughter, the present landlady ; and though the pudding 
may now be ordered by the humblest visitor, the honour 
of the king's visits is still felt in the " Portland Arms " 
with something of that satisfaction which another royal 
visit left in the Castle of Tillietudlem. 

The Isle of Portland is about four miles long, and in 
the widest part nearly one and a half broad. It is a bed 
or rock of freestone. The highest point in the island is 
458 feet above the level of the sea ; the cliffs on the 
western side are very lofty, but those at the Bill of Port- 
land are not more than twenty or thirty feet high. There 
is sufficient depth of vegetable soil to render the island 
tolerably productive, but not sufficiently so for the entire 
sustenance of the inhabitants, who get much of their pro- 
visions from Weymouth. Water is somewhat scarce; 
there is no stream in the island, and the necessary supply 
is obtained from springs and wells, which are not nu- 
merous, but in which, however, the water is copious and 
good. The whole island is included in one parish, which 
contained, in 1831, a population of 2670. 

Portland stone came into repute in the time of James I ., 
who used it, by the advice of his architects, in rebuilding 
the banqueting house at Whitehall. Mr. Smeaton, in 
his narrative of the building of Eddystone Lighthouse 
(Penny Mag., No. 20, vol. L, p. 163 — 165), Has given a 
description of the quarries of Portland. 

The road from Fortune's Well to the Western Cliff is 
very steep, and commands fine views of the Chesil Bank 
and the low but picturesque shores of Western Dor- 
setshire; and from the top, on a clear day, Torbay m 
Devonshire may be distinguished. Having attained the 
summit, the road runs to the right, on the extreme edge 
of the cliffs, from which a number of smaller roads, re- 
curring at every hundred yards, run between lofty gul- 
lies in the face of the rocks, which rise about twenty feet 
above the main road. These " bye-paths " lead to the 
Quarries. If the visitor ta^e any one of them, it will 
lead him through a series of well-stacked piles of sand- 
stone, into a stone-pit of irregular form, measuring per- 
haps 200 feet or more each way, and shut in by solid 
walls of variously stratified stone to the height of about 
sixty feet. The scene is now a beautiful one : blocks of 
stone as large as good-sized rooms lie tumbled about in 
the most picturesque confusion — white intermingled with 
shades of yellow, grey, and red ; and enormous orange- 
coloured stalactites, called by the quarry-men " congealed 
water," hang from the projecting rocks. Stains, the slow 
result of various decaying mosses and lichens steeped in 
the little rills, which are strongly impregnated with iron, 
give their mellowing hues to the picture. Before the 
visitor can have had time to express his astonishment 
at the novelties before him, he may chance to have it 
still further heightened, by a wild and oft-repeated cry 
of " High, high, T high, bays, high" repeatea in tones 
which to a stranger seem to be those of a madman. 
This cry proceeds from a party of quarry-men engaged 
in moving a block of roach-stone from the pit ; and as 
the whole operation of quarrying is now before the 
stranger's eye, I shall proceed to describe everything 
worthy of attention. 

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Erasmus was among the great luminaries of the age 
of the Reformation. He was distinguished as a theologian, 
as a biblical critie and translator, as a reviver of classical 
literature, and as an author who diluted and softened down 
the acrimony of controversy in a dark age, with wit and 
refinement. His works are contained in ten volumes 
folio, one of which, of two thousand pages, is occupied 
with his correspondence. His letters are addressed to 
the most eminent persons of the period, whether of Bri- 
tish or of European reputation; to crowned heads, to 
Popes, and Cardinals ; to the leaders of the Reformation ; 
and to politicians, scholars, and personal friends. The 
object of this paper is to give a few specimens of his re- 
marks on persons and things in England during the pe- 
riod of his acquaintance with the country. » 

His first visit to England was in the year 1497, at the 
age of thirty, to fulfil a promise made to his noble pupil 
Lord Montjoy, whose liberality he had experienced, but 
in a degree not equal to his necessities ; for he speaks of 
him as a sincere friend, but insinuates that he was not a 
bountiful person. In truth, with respect to presents and 
pecuniary assistance, Erasmus seems to have ridden all 
his patrons rather hard. Montjoy was a learned man ; 
and was so enamoured of literary intercourse, that he was 
said never to be happy out of the society of Erasmus 
whenever that eminent scholar was residing in England. 
Even after he was married, he left his family and resided 
in Oxford, solely for the purpose of advancing in his 
studies under Erasmus's direction. During Montjoy's 
absence from London, he gave Erasmus leave to use his 
house at discretion; but unfortunately the noble lord's 
steward, underrating that discretion, and overrating his 
own domestic economy, made the exercise of the privilege 
too disagreeable to be often repeated. In a letter to Dean 
Colet, founder of St. Paul's school, Erasmus describes 
the surlinessof the domestic, whom he designates under the 
characteristic name of Cerberus. His stay in London 
therefore was short, and he went to Oxford ; where he 
studied at St. Mary's College, and became intimate with 
all who had any reputation in letters, — with Colet, Gro- 
cyn, Linacer, Williams, Latimer, Sir Thomas More, and 

It speaks well for the learning of England at that time, 
that the studies of a man who ultimately became one of 
the lights of his age, and who has been looked up to by 
after-times as among the foremost in letters and theology 
in the splendid era of the Reformation, should in any 
degree have been directed by English scholars. Colet, 
Dean of St. Paul's, assisted him in divinity; Grocyn, 
linacer, and Latimer, taught him Greek. For some time 
previously Oxford had been infested by a cabal who 
professed to adopt the sentiment of the elder Cato, and 
to oppose the teaching of Greek as a dangerous novelty. 
These enemies to innovation chose to call themselves Tro- 
jans ; but before the arrival of Erasmus the Trojans had 
been successfully assaulted, yet without the conflagration 
of their university \ add Greek literature had been restored 
with -due honours. On hi* coming to Oxford, he com- 
plied with the fashion of the times by complimenting 
the college into which he had entered with a Latin ode. 
This ode extorted from a foreigner the acknowledgment 
of what he had previously thought incredible — that the 
genius of Germany was quite equal to that of Italy. 

Oft the whole, Erasmus was so highly pleased with 
England, and with the friends he had gained there, that 
be frequently repeated his visits to an island where he 
had more admirers and patrons than even in the whole extent 
of the Continent. In addition to those already men- 
tioned, he enumerates with gratitude, William Warham, 
Archbishop of Canterbury, Cardinal Wolsey, and Tun- 
«*H, Bishop of Durham. In a letter, written to a friend 
* Italy, in December 1497* he says that instead of 

writing, he would long ago have been a sojourner m 
Italy, if his friend and patron Lord Montjoy had not 
carried him to England. " But you will ask, what is it 
that delights you so much in that country ? If I have 
any credit with you, believe me, my friend, when I as- 
sure you, that nothing ever yet pleased me so much. 
The climate here is healthy and pleasant. I have met 
with humanity, politeness, and learning : learning, not 
trite and superficial, but deep and accurate; true old 
Greek and Latin learning ; and so much of it, that but 
for mere curiosity I have no occasion to visit Italy. 
When Colet discourses, I seem to hear Plato himself. In 
Grocyn I admire an universal compass of learning. Lin 
acer's acuteness, depth, and accuracy are not to be ex* 
celled ; nor did nature ever form anything more elegant* 
exquisite, and better accomplished than More. It would 
he endless to recount all ; but it is surprising to think 
how learning flourishes in this happy country !" But 
notwithstanding this nigh* flown panegyric, constitutional 
restlessness seems to have possessed him, for he left 
England before the end of the year and went to Paris. 
His next visit to this country was in 1499, but his stay 
seems to have been short. On his return he was stripped 
of all his money by a custom-house officer before his em- 
barkation, and his anger was extreme at being told, on 
application to have it returned, that it had been seized by 
legal process, and that there was no remedy. Yet, iras- 
cible as was his temper, his partiality for the country 
prevailed ; for in 1500, on the publication of his " Adagia" 
at Paris, he added a panegyric on England, and dedicated 
the whole work to Lord Montjoy, who scarcely deserved 
the compliment, having been the occasion of his loss, by 
not instructing him in the laws and usages of the king- 

But in 1521, in a letter to the learned John Lodovicus 
Vives, he speaks in a less approving tone of Oxford, than 
on his first acquaintance with it. " About three years 
ago, the Bishop of Rochester, Chancellor of Cambridge, 
told me that now, instead of sophistical argumentations, 
sober and sound topics of discussion are handled by di- 
vines in their schools ; discussions from which both pro- 
fessors and students went away, not only more learned 
but better men thau when they came. The University of 
Oxford, at the instigation of certain monks, at first made 
some resistance to such practices ; but they were con- 
trolled by the Cardinal's and the king's authority, be- 
cause, evidently, they acted from mere envy of so illus- 
trious and ancient a school." 

A letter to a poetical friend on the Continent, dated 
1499, exhibits the divine of two-and-tjurty in no very 
mortified or ascetic frame of mind. " I am getting on 
very well in England. That Erasmus whom you once 
knew is well nigh become not the worst horseman in the 
world, even a pretty good hunter ; and not a very awk- 
ward courtier — he pays his compliments with some degree 
of smoothness, smiles with some pretension to affability : 
and yet all this against the grain! What signifies that? 
It answers well enough. And you, too, if you are well, 
will hurry hither as fast as you can. Does such a clever 
fellow mean to live to old age among the muddling 
French ? Your gout, forsooth, lays you by the heels. Send 
it to the devil, provided you do not go along with it. If 
you knew all that Britain has to offer, fnend Faustus, 
you would put wings to your feet, and be here in a twink- 
ling ; or if your gout would not allow of your wearing 
them there, you might contrive to get yourself transformed 
into a Daedalus. I will only touch on one point out of 
many. Here are girls with angels' faces; so good-na- 
tured, that you would think your Muses were dowdies 
in comparison of them. Besides, there is a custom 
here which deserves to be lauded to the skies. Where- 
evcr you come, you are hailed with kisses by all: 
when you take jour leave^ you art sped with a repetition 
of kisses ! if you return, having forgotten something, the 
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kissing ceremony comes over again ! Your visit is of 
course returned, and you stand pledged to render back 
all you have received. On a chance meeting at a third 
place, kissing over again ! — move in whatever direction 
you please, there is nothing but kissing ! Were you once 
to taste how soft and smooth, how fragrant they are, you 
would not merely wish, like Solon, to travel for ten years, 
but to sojourn in England for the remainder of your days. 
But at present I will carry the joke no further ; for after 
holding out such temptation, I shall depend on seeing 
you in a few days." 

That our more reserved country-women of modern 
times may not be scandalized at Erasmus's playful levity, 
it may be proper to observe that the universality and 
publicity of the custom was the best security for its inno- 
cence ; that what is now considered as a personal endear- 
ment, only warranted by natural affinity or some other 
close connection, was then nothing more than a general 
ceremony ; and that even in later periods of more refine- 
ment, that mode of salutation was tolerated in all degrees 

of intimacy between the sexes in which the colder form 
of shaking hands is now allowed. In Shakspeare, at the 
Cardinal's banquet, King Henry the Eighth says to 
Anne Bullen, 

" Sweetheart, 
I were unmannerly to take you out, 
And not to kisf you." 

This was anciently done at the beginning of some 
dances ; in others, it was gravely and professionally 
noted down, as a component part of thejigure. In a black- 
letter dialogue without dates, between Custom and Verity, 
concerning the use and abuse of dancing and minstrelsy, 
Custom puts this question to Verity : — 

« What foot would dance, 
If that when dance is done, 

He may not have at ladies' lips 
That which in dance he won ? " 

', [To be continued", 


[Back View of Lady Place, Hurley.] 

The views of this old mansion which accompany the 
present article are from drawings taken a short time ago, 
the materials of the house being then about to be sold by 
auction. We cannot therefore permit it to be added to 
" the things that were," without a passing notice of a 
place associated with our recollections of a great event in 
English history — the Revolution of 1688. 

Hurley House is situated on one of the most pic- 
turesque windings of the Thames, and but a few hundred 
yards from the river, the grounds extending to the banks. 
It is about five miles from Maidenhead, and about four 
from Henley-on-Thames, not far from the Oxford road. 
The view from the hills above the village of Hurley is 
very fine ; and the village itself is pleasantry situated in 
a valley, sheltered on both sides of the river by gently- 
descending and well-wooded hills. It has an antient and 
retired look, the houses are old and built partly of timber, 

with deep porches and seats, covered with mosses and 
vines, contrasting somewhat singularly with the smart inn 
and new toll-house at the entrance of the village. The 
church, which stands near the manor-house, is old and 

The site of Hurley House was a Benedictine monas- 
tery, founded in the reign of William the Conqueror, 
and dedicated to the Virgin ; hence the house, which was 
built about the beginning of the seventeenth century, was 
termed Lady Place. The manor came into the pos- 
session of the Lovelace family in the sixteenth century ; 
and the house was built by Sir Richard Lovelace, who 
was " knighted in the wars," as his epitaph declared, and 
who was reputed to have acquired a large sum of money 
on a sea expedition with Sir Francis Drake. His son) 
was made Baron Lovelace of Hurley. 

We have often rambled over the half-deserted rooi 

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of Lady Place, at a time when the possessor of the pro- 
perty seldom visited it. The house was a most perplex- 
ing labyrinth of dark rooms running one into the other, 
— and of " passages that lead to nothing." 

The preceding view represents the garden front of the 
house. The hall, which was of large size and lofty di- 
mensions, had two entrances, one from the garden, and 
one from the grounds leading to the Thames. The ceil- 
ing was covered with plaster mouldings of elegant flowing 
scroll-work, intermixed with fruit and flowers ; and the 
walls were also ornamented with groups of musical in- 
struments, books, &c, inclosed in borders, all of plaster. 
On one side of this spacious apartment was a staircase 
leading to a balcony running round it, from which were 
doors to rooms on the second story. 

The rooms were panelled, as was also the hall or 
saloon; the panels being painted with landscapes, or 
else carved in arches and lozenges. The landscapes were 
about fifty in number, painted in a broad and free man- 
ner : they have been attributed to Salvator Rosa, but we 
believe they were the work of Antonio Tempesta. , 

The lower rooms, with their large bay windows and 
painted and carved panellings, must have been, espe- 
cially when filled with the massive, antique furniture of 
the period, extremely rich, light, and imposing. But the 
upper rooms, which were not intended for show, presented 
a great contrast ; they exhibited little either of elegance 
or comfort. The gutters from the roof ran through 
them, by which the external air was freely admitted at all 
seasons, as well as a copious share of the rain. 

In the reign of James II., John, Lord Lovelace, " kept 
house" at Lady Place with a profuse hospitality that 
afterwards ate like a canker into his fortune. But it was 
under cover of this hospitality that the meetings of the 
noblemen of England were held, which resulted in the 
Revolution of 1688. The vault under the hall of the 
house was the burial vault of the monastery which for- 
merly occupied the site : an inscription on the floor re- 
cords that " Three bodies in Benedictine habits were 
found under this pavement." The ceiling of the vault 
is about six feet and a half high. In the view given 
helow, the recess is exhibited where, it is believed, on local 
tradition, that various papers respecting the calling in of 

the Prince of Orange, &c. were signed. The following 
inscription records the chief facts connected with the his- 
tory of the vault : — 

••Dust and Ashes, 
Mortality and Vicissitude to all. 

" Be it remembered, that the Monastery of Lady Place (of 
which this Vault was the Burial Cavern) was founded at 
the time of the great Norman Revolution ; by which Revo- 
lution the whole State of England was changed. 

Hi motus animorum ; atque hac certamina tanta, 
Pulveris exigui jactu compressa quieicunt 

u Be it also remember'd, that in this place six Hundred 
Years afterwards, the Revolution of 1688 was begun. This 
House was then in the Possession of the Family of Lord 
Lovelace ; by whom private meetings of the Nobility were 
Assembled in the Vault ; and it is said that several consul- 
tations for calling in the Prince of Orange were held in this 
Recess. On which account this Vault was Visited by that 
powerfull Prince after he had ascended the Throne. 

" Be it also remember'd that on the 29th of May, 1780, 

this Vault was Visited by General Paoli, Commander of 

the Corsicans in the Revolution of that Island. 

" Be it remember'd 

that this Place was Visited by 

their Majesties King Georgr 

the third & Queen 

Charlotte, on monday 

the 14th of November 


Lord Lovelace was rewarded by King William with 
the post of Captain of the Band of Gentlemen Pensioners. 
He fitted up Lady Place with great splendour, and lived 
in a style which involved him so much in debt, that the 
greater portion of his estate was sold under a decree of 
the Court of Chancery. The house then passed through 
various hands. Last year, its dilapidation condemned it 
to be pulled down. On the occasion of the visit when 
the drawings were made, the person in charge of the house 
stated that the vault was not to be disturbed ; although 
the materials of the house were to be sold by auction in 
a day or two afterwards. But at that time the vault was 
in a state of decay. It was originally very dry, but the 
rain had penetrated through the ceiling, and seemed to 
be doing considerable mischief. 

[Vaults of Lady Placed 

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THE PfeNrtf Uk&ktiM, 

[FebruArt i^ 



The existence of man, — his necessary comforts and 
enjoy ments,^-nay, the very condition of the earth which 
he inhabits, — are all dependent in some way or other 
upon heat : there are but few substances manufactured, 
and but few processes performed in life, without its as- 
sistance; but in no circumstances is its agency more 
essential than in preparing animal and vegetable sub- 
stances for the food of man. It will be convenient, there- 
fore, to consider the nature of this important element, if 
such it may be called, before we treat of the further 
processes which are performed by its means. The 
phenomena presented by a common fire will be sufficient 
for our present purpose, and to them we will direct the 
reader's attention. 

We perceive that before a fire can be kindled in our 
grates a certain series of processes is performed, which 
on further inquiry we shall find to be so many commu- 
nications of heat from combustible bodies to other bodies 
combustible in a smaller degree. In using a flint and 
steel, the sudden blow which is given by the former to 
the latter occasions a small particle of steel to be struck 
off : this, however, is not all. One of the constant effects 
of percussion, or of friction, is the evolution of heat from 
the bodies struck or rubbed ; but where the heat comes 
from, or in what way it is liberated from the substance, is 
yet a disputed point. Some think that heat is merely a 
state of vibration into which the particles of bodies are 
thrown by the effect of a blow or of friction ; while others 
think that heat is a fluid forced out from between the 
particles in the course of these mechanical impulses. Be 
this as it may, however, the fact is undoubted, that per- 
cussion and friction tend to produce heat. The little 
particles of steel, then, are, in the act of being broken 
off, so intensely heated as to become red-hot : — these are 
the sparks which we see in the act of " striking a light." 

These particles are not suffered to fall upon wood, or 
paper, or coal, but upon linen or cotton which has pre- 
viously undergone the process of partial burning, by 
which some of the substances which form part of the 
linen or cotton are driven off, and a species of charcoal, 
or carbon, in a very attenuated state, is left behind : this 
forms tinder, which possesses the property of being heated 
to redness more quickly than coal, wood, paper, or un- 
burnt linen, under such circumstances. If we were now 
to apply a piece either of wood or of paper to the red-hot 
tinder, we should find that it would not ignite ; princi- 
pally for this reason, that the combustible parts of wood 
or paper are cjombined with matters which retard rather 
than aid combustion, and therefore require a certain time 
to separate from those matters before the wood or paper 
will be ignited. We therefore employ a substance, such 
as sulphur or brimstone, which is almost purely combus- 
tible, and requires but a momentary contact with a red- 
hot body to become ignited. Tin's sulphur, by being a 
sort of envelope to a thin piece of wood, communicates to 
the latter, during the act of burning, sufficient heat to 
drive off the unfavourable matters in the first place, and 
then to ignite the wood. 

Here then we have the philosophy of a common brim- 
stone match ; but we must now consider other modes of 
procuring fire quickly. Some years ago, phosphorus 
boxes or phials were much in use for this purpose. A 
piece of phosphorus was put into a small phial, and was 
stirred about in it by a hot iron wire, by which the phos- 
phorus was partially burnt in a confined portion of air, 
and the interior of the phial then contained a compound 
substance called oxide of phosphorus, formed by the union 
of the oxygen of the air with a portion of the phosphorus : 
the bottle was then tightly corked. To procure a light 
from this phial, a common brimstone match was inserted, 
and a small portion of the oxide withdrawn on the tip of 

a match, by which flame was instantly produced, on Ad- 
count of the strong affinity between sulphur and phos- 
phorus ; and the heat which attends the combination is 
sufficient to ignite these substances. 

Another " instantaneous " light was the Oxyrnuriate 
match . Oxyrnuriate, or more properly chlorate, of potash, 
is a very singular salt in many respects, and among other 
properties it possesses that of instantly kindling, when 
mixed with sugar or other inflammable compounds, by 
the contact of a drop of sulphuric acid. Matches were 
prepared by dipping -them in a preparation, of which 
chlorate of potash formed a leading ingredient ; and a 
Kttle bottle containing asbestos soaked in sulphuric acid 
was provided, in which to dip the match : the matches 
were dipped in sulphur previous to the ehlorate of potash, 
and the latter was sometimes tinged with vermillion. 
100 such matches were sold in ornamental cases of tin 
(moiree metallique), with the acid bottle, at prices which 
sunk gradually from fifteen shillings to one penny. 

These contrivances have now become almost superseded 
by another, in which ignition is produced with great fa- 
cility, by means of friction on a ehemical substance. 
This is the common Lucifer — a good appellation, de- 
rived from two Latin words, tux, light, and /era, I 
bear. The end of a small match of wood is dipped 
into a paste consisting of chlorate of potash mixed 
with sulphuret of antimony and starch, — a compound 
which takes fire with great rapidity by mere friction, 
for on drawing the end of the match quickly through 
a folded piece of sand-paper, the substance immediately 
takes fire. But the sulphureous-antimonial vapour 
emitted during the combustion is dangerous to a person 
with weak lungs. 

Promethcans consist of a roll of paper containing at 
the larger end a portion of chlorate of potash paste 
and a small glass bulb full of sulphuric acid : on strik- 
ing the end the bulb is crushed, and the acid, coming in 
contact with the chlorate paste, ignites it. 

There are many other modes of producing a light by 
means of friction, percussion, or compression. The savage 
kindles a fire by rubbing two pieces of wood together : a 
blacksmith can kindle a fire by hammering a piece of 
iron until it is hot : air can be. compressed into such a 
small space, that the heat, which is condensed with the 
air, is liberated, the condensed air not having sufficient 
capacity to contain it. This latter is a very pleasing 
experiment. Suppose the end of a boy's popgun were 
stopped up, and the piston or rammer worked air-tight 
through the bore, no amount of force would drive the piston 
quite to the bottom, because the air contained within the 
bore, however much it might be compressed, would always 
occupy some space. Now it is found that under such 
circumstances a considerable quantity of heat is evolved, 
which increases as the compression increases. This prin- 
ciple has been taken advantage of thus : — a piece of 
amidou, or German tinder, is placed in the lower part of a 
piston which works air-tight in a brass tube ; and when 
the contained air is much compressed, the heat evolved 
thereby kindles the amidou, from which a light may be 
procured by means of a match, when the piston is with- 

When, by any of these processes, we have kindled a 
match, we apply it to paper or shavings, which are then 
succeeded by wood, and lastly by coals : — it will be ob- 
served that coal kindles more slowly than wood, but the 
former burns longer than the latter ; and that wood kin- 
dles more slowly than paper, but burns longer. When 
the coals are kindled, we are accustomed at different 
times to adopt various contrivances for continuing or 
augmenting the heat of the fire, such as stirring it up, 
blowing it with bellows, &c. ; and we see that some por- 
tions of the contents of the grate emit flame, while the 
remainder emit red heat without flame. It will be in- 
teresting to consider the nature of these processes. 

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All vegetable substances contain, along with other 
ingredients, a portion of carbon aud a portion of hydro- 
gen, the former of which is a solid, and the latter, in its 
free state, a gas. Now both of these bodies are termed 
combustibles ; that is, they are capable of combining che- 
mically with oxygen gas in such an energetic manner as 
to emit both light and heat : for this reason oxygen is 
termed a supporter of combustion, and its presence is ne- 
cessary in order that carbon or hydrogen should burn, 
or enter into combustion. There are other combustibles 
besides carbon and hydrogen, and other supporters of 
combustion besides oxygen, but we will confine our at- 
tention to those three bodies. 

Coals, wood, and paper are all of vegetable origin, 
and all contain carbon and hydrogen. When any one of 
these substances is heated to a certain temperature, the 
hydrogen which it contains becomes sufficiently liberated 
from the other ingredients to combine with the oxygen 
of the atmosphere ; for the latter contains oxygen as one 
of its constituents, the other being nitrogen. In this 
way a double separation is brought about : viz., the hy- 
drogen is separated from the other ingredients which form 
coal, wood, &c, and the oxygen is separated from the 
nitrogen, which, with it, forms our atmosphere. The 
effect of the combination of oxygen and hydrogen is the 
production of water in the state of vapour. We have 
stated in a former paper that water consists of two mea- 
sures of hydrogen and one of oxygen : now it is found 
that in all such processes of combustion as we are here 
considering, the surrounding air loses one part of its oxy- 
gen for every two parts of hydrogen which the burning 
body loses. The water thus produced ascends in the 
form of steam, and is condensed into minute drops of 
water on coming in contact with a cold body. Now at 
the instant that the combination of the two gases takes 
place, light and heat are thrown out, which are visi- 
ble to us in the form of flame, and the production of 
which we may thus illustrate : — two measures of hydro- 
gen and one of oxygen combine to form an equal weight 
of water, but the gases occupy many hundred times as 
much space as the water will occupy : the heat, therefore, 
which was combined with the gases is set free when those 
gases are so enormously condensed, and the result is that 
a large quantity of heat is given out, and becomes sen- 
sible to us in the form of light and heat, or flame. This 
bone mode in which the production of flame has been 
accounted for, but the point has not yet been definitely 

The flame which we are accustomed to see is, how- 
ever, seldom the result of the combination of oxygen and 
hydrogen alone : there is generally a portion of carbon 
combined with hydrogen, in the form of a compound gas, 
and it is the combination of those two with oxygen that 
generates the flame : — thus, the gas which lights our 
streets and shops is hydrogen and carbon mixed ; and 
when we apply a light to the end of a pipe containing the 
gts, the latter becomes sufficiently heated to combine 
with the oxygen of the atmosphere, and thus to give out 
hght and heat ; and the results of the combustion are 
steam and carbonic acid gas. 

We must now consider the red portion of our common 
fires : this is coal deprived of its hydrogen, which has 
escaped in the production of flame, and thereby left little 
hut carbon behind : the carbon, when strongly heated, 
combines with the oxygen of the atmosphere and forms 
carbonic acid gas, which ascends the chimney ; but the 
combination cannot produce flame, because no hydrogen 
is present ; a bright red light being alone emitted. A 
piece of coal emits red light, and heat long after it has 
ceased to yield flame, chiefly on account of the slowness 
with which the carbon is consumed. What we term 
<*te is coal which has been deprived of all its hydrogen, 
*od it is for this reason that coke yields no flame. 
By a little consideration we shall see that the act of 

stirring a fire supplies it with additional oxygen* tnrough 
the medium of the atmosphere. When the coals are 
bedded closely together in the grate, the air can act on 
the outside of the mass ? but cannot intimately mix with 
the coals : we therefore break and stir up the latter, by 
which air can gain entrance to every part, and thus feed 
the carbon and hydrogen with a fresh supply of oxygen 
for the purpose of combustion. t 

It is a common opinion that day-light acts injuriously 
on a fire, and we frequently see a screen or an inverted 
shovel placed before it to shield it from the light of a 
window. It has been lately proved that this is not a 
vulgar error, as some have supposed, for there are certain 
chemical rays combined with the light of the sun which 
retard combustion. 

The practice of wetting fuel previous to placing it on a 
fire is wasteful, on this account : — the water which we 
throw on the fuel must be converted into vapour, and 
must escape, before the fuel can become kindled ; and in 
the act of vaporising, it robs the other parts of the fire of 
a large quantity of neat, which is thus lost to any useful 
purpose. A given quantity of water, in order to be con- 
verted into steam, must have such an additional quantity 
of heat as would impart to it a temperature of upwards 
of 1000 degrees if it could continue in the liquid state. 
In the case of the wetted fluid, therefore, this large amount 
of heat is abstracted from the fire, and thus diminishes its 

When a fire is first lighted, we see a quantity of smoke 
rise from it and ascend the chimney, which quantity is 
diminished as the fire becomes clearer. Now this smoke 
consists of a portion of unburnt hydrogen combined with 
unburnt particles of carbon, which are not heated to a 
sufficient degree to be ignited. The air which exists in a 
chimney becomes heated, and, as a consequence, lighter 
than it was before, and so ascends the chimney, carrying 
with it the unconsumed fuel, which we recognise as 
smoke. The production of smoke is as much a loss as it 
often is a nuisance, for we are deprived of all the heat 
which it would yield if it were consumed. We place coals 
on the top of a fire, by which some of the hydrogen, 
becoming warm and liberated, ascends before it can get 
ignited; but rf we could by any means supply a fire 
with coals from beneath, the liberated hydrogen would 
have to pass through the burning coals before it could 

This subject is dosely connected with the contrivances 
for regulating the supply of air to a fire. If the fire be 
low and dull, it may frequently be invigorated by the 
forcible ejection of wind upon it from a bellows. The 
action of this instrument is illustrative of the pressure of 
the atmosphere : two boards, similar in size and shape, 
are connected at their edges by a piece of leather, which 
admits of their being brought near to, or far from, each 
other, and which inclose a portion of air between them. 
Suppose now that the two boards be close together, and 
that we separate them by means of the handles, the in- 
terior space would be almost devoid of air, because we 
suppose the edges to be well secured : the external air, 
however, rushes in through a hole in the under board 
to fill the vacated space, until the density of the in- 
ternal and external air is equal : on closing the boards, 
the air cannot escape by the way it entered, because a 
leather flap or valve falls over the hole; it therefore passes 
through a nozzle which is inserted into one end of the 
cavity, and thus enters the fire. If we stop the end of 
the nozzle with the finger, the boards cannot be brought 
together, because the confined air has no means of escape. 

When we see a plate of metal placed across the upper 
part of a fireplace, wc may consider it to act as a bellows 
or blower, in this way : — there is always a current of cold 
air flowing towards an open tire, and as there is usually 
a considerable space open above the fire, the air enters 
the chimney, and produces a bad effect in two ways : it 

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[February l 1 /, 1(8$. 

interferes with the rapidity of the ascent of the heated 
air, smoke, aqueous vapour, &c., from the fire, on account 
of its heing somewhat heavier than those bodies ; and it 
tends to reduce the temperature of the upper part of the 
fire, which, as we have said, ought to have the highest 
temperature. Now by the interposition of a screen across 
this opening, most of the air which enters the chimney 
must pass through the fire, and thus, besides supplying 
the required share of oxygen for the purpose of com- 
bustion, becomes heated and lightened, so that it ascends 
the chimney with greater facility. Very lofty chimneys 
act as blowers : if one chimney be 20 feet high, and 
another 40, and both be filled with heated air, the air in 
the longer chimney has twice the ascensive force of that 
contained in the shorter one, because there is twice as 
much air striving to gain a more elevated position. We 
find that an attic chimney sends the smoke into the room 
more frequently than a kitchen chimney, chiefly on ac- 
count of the ascending current, which prevents the descent 
of the smoke, not being so powerful in the former case as. 
in the latter. , The lofty chimneys which we see attached 
to glasshouses and other manufactories where intense fires 
are employed,* give rise to a powerful ascending current 
of heated air, by which new supplies of oxygen are ad- 
mitted to the burning fuel with great rapidity. 

The bad effect of an open fireplace led to the adop- 
tion, some years ago, of " register stoves," in which a 
flap or screen is drawn across the lower part, of the 
chimney, with a small hole in it which may be .opened or 
closed at pleasure by means of a valve or trap ; so that 
but little cold air ' can ascend the chimney, the valve 
being opened sufficient only to admit the passage of 
smoke from the fire. 

The great heat which can be procured in German and 
other close stoves arises from the circumstance that the 
external air must pass through the burning fuel before it 
can ascend the chimney. 

We shall take another opportunity of describing the 
modes of warming buildings by heated air, hot water, &c. 

A Chinese Dinner. — We were conducted into another 
room, and took our places at little four-cornered tables, 
each meant for six persons. . The tables were placed toge- 
ther in the form of a half-circle, and the side towards the 
centre remained unoccupied. At the middle table ?at the 
host, and at every other table sat a Chinese, who did the 
honours of it. The empty sides of the table, where no one 
sat, were hung with scarlet drapery, beautifully worked in 
embroidery of gold and different coloured silks; Chinese 
flowers, but not of very striking forms, furnished the pattern. 
On the front edge of each table were placed the finest fruits 
in little baskets, with beautiful flowers stuck between them. 
Besides these, the whole table was covered with little cups 
and plates, which were ranged with great precision, and 
contained fruits, preserves, confectionery, slices of bread 
and butter, with small birds cold, and hundreds of other 
things. An extraordinary degree of art had been expended 
in the arrangement of those articles ; amongst the rest were 
whole rows of little plates, filled with elegantly-raised three 
and four cornered pyramids, composed of little bits of 
pheasants, larded geese, sausages, and so forth. Here 
stood plates with small oranges ; there preserved plums ; 
and here again almonds. Various little seeds of different 
colours were served upon shallow saucers, so arranged how- 
ever that each colour occupied a particular field. We here 
recognised a kind of quince seed, of very delicate flavour ; 
chick-peas, which, if eaten frequently, are said to produce 
a very bad effect; and chestnuts and hazel-nuts, which 
come from the province of Pecheli, and greatly excel our 
fruits of the same kind. There were, moreover, grapes, 
which likewise came from the northern provinces of the 
empire ; with preserved ginger, citrons, and lemons. After 
making but a short stay in China, one is accustomed to see 
daily and hourly that the Chinese conduct all their ar- 
rangements in a different style and manner from ourselves ; 
it was thus also with the repast, for we began with the dessert. 

By way of cover, three small cups are placed before each 
seat ; the first on the left hand is filled with soy, which the 
Chinese add to almost every sort of food ; the second serves 
for the ordinary eating ; and in the third is a little spoon of 
porcelain for the soups. In front of these three cups, which 
are ranged in a line, lie the two round little chop-sticks, 
which in rich houses are made of ivory. It is extremely 
difficult for strangers to get at their food with these sticks, 
and the Chinese were amused with our unskilfulncss ; one 
was overheard to whisper, ' Here are wise Europeans for 
you ; they cannot so much as eat properly.' Mr. Lindsay 
understood him perfectly. Instead of napkins, small three- 
cornered pieces of paper are placed near the covers; these 
are ornamented with stripes of red paper, and are used by 
the Chinese to wipe their hands. The dinner began by 
the host's inviting us to eat of the finer dishes ; whilst we 
were eating them, he kept calling our attention to the 
flavour or the rarity of this or that thing: and the mode of 
eating was to convey the food to the mouth, with the two 
sticks, out of the dish ; for a small bowl was the largest 
vessel placed upon the table during the whole entertain- 
ment. * The Chinese place no cloths. upon the tables, but 
instead, so soon. as the course is finished, the whole.) 
is removed, and a new surface, as it were, with fresh tb 
is served. As soon as the first course was removed, aq| 
small* cup was added to each cover; this was us 
drinking hot samtschu, a fermented liquor made of| 
which at a Chinese tahle supplies the place of win 
which is always served boiling ; servants walk-TOttrf 
large silver cans,' and help everybody to this nectar, < 
principally on account of its heat, begins very soon to ope- 
rate.. The. Chinese, in drinking wine, observe nearly the 
same rules as the English. They challenge to drink, then 
hold the cup with both hands, and, after wishing each other 
health and happiness, drink it off at a draught ; whereupon 
they turn the inside of the cup towards the person with 
whom they are drinking, and show that they have drained 
every drop. • On one occasion, when I did not wish to drink 
off a whole cup, my Chinese friend held his own constantly 
before me, and kept making signs, till I had finished mine. 
Samtschu is in general of an insipid taste; they have* 
however, a great many kinds of it, which are , constantly^ 
changed at the tables of the rich, and 1 tasted one variety 
which might be placed alongside of the best brandy. ; So 
soon as the first division of the dinner, consisting posiftly* 
of sixty ragouts, was over, the soups appeared ; these were' 
placed in small bowls, in the middle of the table, and every/ 
man ate, with his little porcelain spoon, out of the dish.- leu 
this way five or six different soups were served in succession^ 
and between them various other things were placed^ 
before the guests in little cups ; amongst the rest, pastry, - 
prepared in many ways, articles of confectionery, and' ' 
strong chicken-hashes. Between the different grand* ^ 
divisions . of the dinner, tea was handed round, and t<*4 
bacco smoked; during which we were enabled to rest 
ourselves, so as to begin again with fresh vigour. After' 
several courses, five small tables were placed outside of the 
half-circle % of the original tables ; these were completely , 
covered with roasted pork and birds of all sorts. Then teiL, 9 
cooks came into the room, clothed all alike and very taste-j| 
fully, and began carving the roasts. Two placed themselves^ 
before each table, and commenced, with long knives, to , 
sever the hard-roasted skin of all these viands, which was" 
done most skilfully. Other servants, who stood in front of j 
the tables, received the little bits, into which all these roasts* 
were cut, upon small plates, and then placed them on the! 
middle of our tables. At the end of the whole meal, the, 
cooks came again into the room, and returned thanks for ; 
the honour which had been done them in being permitted^ 
to cater for the illustrious company. I shall here close the, 
description of this dinner, which perhaps has wearied the 1 ] 
indulgent reader more than it did us ; yet full six hours- 
were we obliged to sit at it, and many hundreds of dishean 
were served up. — Dr. Meyeris Voyage round the World* 

»iy j 

%• The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge bit, 
59, Lincoln's Inn Fields. t 

Printed by William Clomtks and Soirs, Stamford Street. 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[February 24, 1838. 


I. — Orphkus. 

[Orpheus civilizing the Inhabitants of Thrace.] 

James Barry was born at Cork, in 1741. His father 
wwthe master of a coasting-vessel; and being a plain, 
rough sailor, did not think of any other profession for his 
»n than his own. But young Barry early evinced a 
Predilection for literature and art ; and, with that ardour 
*hich distinguished him through life, devoted all the 
time he could steal from sleep and other occupations to 
■tady. At the age of twenty-two he went to Dublin, and 
exhibited, at the Royal Dunlin Society, a picture which 
•ttttcted the attention of Edmund Burke. Under the 
P&tronage of that noble-minded and most distinguished 
E^n he went to London, and was sent by him to Rome 
to perfect his education. 

At Rome he remained five years : he returned to Eng- 
land in mo. The rest of his life was spent in London, 
where he died on the 26th of February, 1806. The 
circumstances of his death were, like those of his life, 
marked by peculiarity. Being taken ill with a cold fit 
of pleuritic fever at the ordinary where he usually dined, 
"*iras conveyed home in a coach ; but the key-hole of 
Vol. VII. 

the house having been filled up by some mischievous boys, 
it was found impossible to enter. A friend procured him 
a bed at the house of a neighbour; here he desired 
to be left alone, and locked himself up /or forty hours 
without medical assistance. He lingered for twenty days, 
when he expired. 

Barry's life is an instructive lesson. With genius of a 
high order, an enthusiastic devotion to art, untiring in- 
dustry, great moral courage and disinterestedness, he 
lived and died a poor man ; many who knew him not 
liking him, and few who attached themselves to him 
remaining as friends. Burke placed him, as he had 
placed Crabbe, on the road to independence and reputa- 
tion; but the personal advantages which might have 
resulted to the artist from his fine endowments, natural 
and cultivated, were neutralized by an excessive irritabi- 
lity of temperament. His self-appreciation was not that 
small, bustling vanity, which is often an accompaniment 
of mediocrity and a selfish disposition; it was the con- 
sciousness of power* which even the most timid possessor 

Digitized by 



[February 24, 

of it mutt feel. But with large views, he became shut 
up in a kind of bigotry of art : he looked intensely at his 
object, and then thought that others should -see as he saw 
and feel as he felt. This would have been comparatively 
harmless,, if his angry temperament had not bristled up 
like the porcupine whenever his views or theories were 
touched. At Rome he involved himself in disputes with 
his fellow-students; and Burke wrote him a letter of 
advice. In England he was deprived of his professor- 
ship of painting, and expelled the Royal Academy, as a 
consequence of disputes with its members. Whether he 
was right or wrong in the charges which he brought 
against the Academy is quite beside the question of the 
manner in which he brought them. It is always un- 
kind, and it is frequently unwise and impertinent, in even 
the most gifted, needlessly to offend the prejudices and 
the conventional usages of society. Men in general see 
but the outward forms of each other : and that admira- 
tion of manifested talent which is yielded warmly when 
gratuitously given, is often alloyed with a grudge or a 
sneer when it is made payable on demand. 

Had Barry lived, he would have found that the world 
is not altogether a mass of ingratitude. The earl of Bu- 
chan set on foot a subscription for him, which amounted 
to about 1000/., in order to purchase him an annuity. 
His death prevented the completion of the project. 

While he was on the Continent, Barry was much an- 
noyed by the prevailing opinion respecting the capabili- 
ties of England and Englishmen to produce and excel in 
the higher departments of art. Montesquieu, Du Bos, 
and Winckelman, had advanced opinions that our cli- 
mate, soil, and food were natural drawbacks to our 
advancement ; and though it was admitted that we some- 
times succeeded admirably in execution, we were deemed 
incapable of reaching the higher region of design. 
Barry, on his return to this country, entered the lists as 
the champion of England. He published, in 1175, an 
c Inquiry into the real and imaginary Obstructions to the 
Acquisition of the Arts in England ;' and shortly after- 
wards began the work of painting an epic poem, with the 
intention of proving, by his own hand, that both design 
and execution could arise and be combined in our u fog- 
covered island," as well as under the clearer sky of Italy. 
The idea was a noble one ; it was the child of genius ; 
and the spirit and manner in which Barry entered on 
his work, and finished it, were worthy of the object pro- 
posed. He offered to the Society for the Encouragement 
of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce, to paint, gratui- 
tously, a series of pictures illustrative of the progress of 
man from a savage to a civilized state, or, to express it 
in his own words, " That the attainment of happiness, 
individual as well as public, depends on the development, 
proper cultivation, and perfection of the human faculties, 
physical and moral, which are so well calculated to lead 
human nature to its true rank, and the glorious designa- 
tion assigned for it by Providence." His offer was 
accepted, and for seven years, amid many privations, he 
laboured at his task. When finished, he obtained 700/., 
of which 500/. was the result of an exhibition of his 
' pictures, and 200/. a present from the Society to whom 
he had given them. It is a painful reflection that " this 
sum comprises nearly the whole produce of his profes- 
sional career." With a knowledge of this fact, one looks 
at the pictures as if they had been worked out with sighs 
and tears, and by the support of many a stinted meal. 
But he was absorbed in his work ; and that w in- 
firmity of noble minds " which leads them to "spurn 
delights and live laborious days" held him on till he had 
finished what is now, with all its defects, as fine a monu- 
ment of the genius of art as has been accomplished in 
England by any single individual. 

Barry's six pictures adorn the principal room of the 
Society for the Encouragement of Arts and Manufactures, 
in their house in John Street, Adelphi. The room is 

oblong ; two of the pictures have been adapted for each 
side, and are each forty-two feet long ; the other four are 
in pairs at each end, and are each fifteen feet two inches 
long. The pictures are all of a uniform height, eleven 
feet ten inches. The subjects are, Orpheus civilizing the 
inhabitants of Thrace; a Grecian Harvest-home; the 
Victors at Olympia ; an Allegorical Representation of the 
Thames, typifying England and Commerce ; the Society 
for the Encouragement of Arts distributing its annual 
prizes ; and Elysium, or the State of final Retribution. 
The latter, and the Victors at Olympia, are the two great 
pictures of the series. 

Justice will be best done to Barry's pictures by con- 
sidering them first in the light which he considered them 
himself and then to look at them with the eyes of our 
own understanding. 

The artist required a starting point for the commence- 
ment of the idea he wished to develop* namely, the pro- 
gress of man from the savage to the civilized state. He 
accordingly selected the celebrated personage in Grecian 
mythology, Orpheus, and placed him in the midst of the 
wild inhabitants of Thrace, whom he is reputed to have 
civilized. The reader is doubtless familiar with some of 
the many Grecian fables told respecting Ofphetta He is, 
as it were, the type or personification of the tnusfc of the 
ancient Greeks. Overloaded as the early Grecian history 
is with fabulous circumstances, there is, doubtless, I foun- 
dation of truth in much that is related ; and though, 
therefore, the existence of such a person as Orpheus has 
been denied, we may assume that there wad one, or per- 
haps several individuals, Whose humanizing ana 1 directing 
influence over their fellow-men is commemorated under 
the actions ascribed to Orpheus. He is set down as one 
of the Argonauts ; and Plato says that he derived his idea 
of the immortality of the soul from Orpheus. He is also 
reputed to have greatly improved the lyre ; and who is 
ignorant of the story which represents him to have de- 
scended into the regions of Pluto, to have recovered his 
Eurydice by the divine charm of his music, and to have 
lost her again by his impatient curiosity ? 

Orpheus, then, in the picture, is the principal person- 
age ; and we may consider him as Barry's poette image 
or personification of the principle of civilization. Around 
him are the rude inhabitants of Thrace- listening in 
wonder to his instructive song, and charmed into silence 
by his music. Me appears as Horace represents him, 
the " minister and interpreter of the zoAi." " By th > 
action of Orpheus, the song appears the principal, and 
the music an accessary part ; as it should always be 
where utility and instruction are intended. His hearers, 
who are represented in what is called a state of nature, 
are most of them armed with clubs, and clad in the spoils 
of wild beasts ; an allusion to their being possessed of 
courage and strength to subdue lions and tigers, but want- 
ing wisdom and skill to prevent retaliation on thetnselves 
or their feeble offspring. The latter circumstance is illus- 
trated by a woman, at some distance on the other side oi 
the river, milking a goat, her two children sitting near 
her at the entrance of the habitation (a cave), where they 
are HI- secured against a lion, who discovers thetn as he 
is prowling about for prey : still farther in the distance 
are seen two horses, one of which h run down by a tiger, 
By this incident it is clearly pointed out that the want oi 
human culture is an evil which extends beyond out- owr 
species, to all animals intended for domestication, and 
which have no other defence than the industry and -wis 
dom of man.* 

Such is Barry's view of his picture : lei us* now lool 
at it for ourselves. If, — as Wordsworth affirms* — 
" We lite by admiration, hope, andf love ; 
And even at these are well Add wisely fitted; 
In dignity of being we ascend,' 1 ' 

then has Barry very inely embodied die elements c 
civilization, " Admiration, hope, and lore" are depicte 

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on the countenances of the auditors of Orpheus ; and the 
sentiments thus aroused seem ahout to be "well and 
wisely fixed," by the rapt intelligence of the female por- 
tion. In the character of woman lies much of that moral 
power by which man ascends " in dignity of being." If, 
again, "the fundamental ideas contained m the word civi- 
lization are — the continual advancement of society in 
wealth and prosperity, and the improvement of man in 
his individual capacity," then has Barry gone upon the 
principles of sound philosophy in making the music, or 
the movement of the feelings, subordinate to the song, or 
the instruction of the understanding. If, again, " pure 
invention is but the habit of a liar," and poetry to be 
eternal must be based on truth, then has Barry placed 
the lyre in the hands of Orpheus, not only in compliance 
with the Grecian fable, but in compliance with what is 
true in the history of man. In the notes to the " Pictorial 
Bible" it is assumed that the " harp" of our English 
version is the lyre of antiquity ; and what reader of the 
Bible is ignorant of how the youthful David charmed the 
" evil spint " in Saul by his melodious skill ? or how, in 
maturer years, when oppressed by the cares of a king- 
dom, he relieved his own mind by singing to his lyre 
those noble strains which have been the solace of thou- 
sands in succeeding ages, and which will yet exert their 
humanizing influences in a later age of the world, and 
amid the accumulated triumphs of civilization ? In all 
these instances, Barry has painted this picture, as he 
painted the series, in the spirit of poetry and truth. 

But the idea of the picture is chargeable with defec- 
tiveness, and there is incongruity in some of the details. 
The idea of the series proceeds upon that false view of 
the progress of man which represents him first as a 
hunter, then as a tiller of the earth, and from thence, as 
from a vantage ground, making his way in civilization. 
How does he represent the auditors of Orpheus in " a 
state of nature ?" " It is a circumstance," he says, " of- 
ten observed by travellers, that the value and estimation 
of women increase according to the growth and cultiva- 
tion of society, and that among savage nations their 
merits are disregarded, and they are in a condition little 
ktter than beasts of burden; all offices of fatigue and 
kfou** war and hunting excepted, being reserved for 
tbem. It is to prove the truth of this observation, that a 
*oman is leaning on her male companion, and carrying a 
dead fawn upon her shoulder." Does this figure indeed 
prove the truth of the observation ? The Greeks always 
S av *e Diana and her nymphs, notwithstanding their sup- 
pled masculine occupation, exceeding grace and delicacy 
°fform. But this was the poetry of pure invention; 
^ the poetry of Barry was intended as the poetry of 
^b. Does that graceful, delicate figure with the dead 
awn over her shoulder indicate aught of the abject con- 
^ of woman amongst uncivilized man ? She leans 
J4 a confiding look upon the athletic figure before her. 
Butnntivilized man is a tyrant in even minutest mat- 
*°* ; a sentiment of beauty is not found in savage life) 
*d affectionate, intelligent confidence, and delicacy of 
■"J»i are the result of education, freedom from abject toil, 
fwhigh refinement. It is this that gives such a charm 
wMilton's " Eve-" She comes perfect from the hand of 
iff Creator ; she is placed in a garden, sheltered from 
«e influences of weather, and freed from all necessity of 
*°* bodily toil ; and therefore when she advances to 
toat Adam we feel how true it must be that " grace was 
^ *H her steps," and that every motion was " dignity and 

*ta principal figures in the picture are grouped with 
eQa *derable skill. Orpheus, as the chief object, is finely 
parted by the tall figure, whose athletic form and aw<> 
''*** countenance contrast again with the delicate figure 
* ^ companion with the dead fawn over her shoulder. 
* females seated on the ground are again well-contrasted 
■J we advanced figure of the old man, who leaning on 

his elbow looks up towards the inspired musician with 
a sort of admiring yet incredulous wonder. On the right 
of Orpheus two individuals are inspecting a scroll, in- 
tended as a supplementary evidence of what he did for 
the civilization of his fellows : the scroll is supposed to 
contain the doctrines which he taught. One individual 
is introduced as "contemplating his hands, and the various 
uses to which they are convertible ; he appears as if, for 
the first time, struck with the grand idea that ' know- 
ledge is power.' " A number of minute particulars are 
intended to complete the story of the picture. Fragments 
of the acorn are supposed to show " the miserable sub- 
sistence derived from spontaneous uncultivated nature ;" 
and the lamb bound, with the knife, fire, &c, to express 
the preparations for sacrifice, and, by implication, the 
first dawnings of the truths of religion on the minds of the 
auditors of Orpheus. We cannot conclude with the af- 
firmation that " the whole of this picture shows with 
peculiar energy the effect of those benefits which accrue 
to mankind from religion and philosophy, and the abso- 
lute necessity of substituting the love and pursuit of truth, 
justice, order, and social life, in lieu of the fraud, violence, 
and disorder of the savage state;" but we may freely 
and safely affirm that this picture, as a portion of a re- 
markable series, is worthy of the extraordinary man by 
whom it was painted. 

Permanence of Knowledge.— -The practical results of the 
progress of physics, chemistry, and mechanics are of the 
most marvellous kind ; and to make them all distinct would 
require a comparison of ancient and modern states: ships 
that were moved by human labour in the ancient world are 
transported by the winds ; and a piece of steel touched by 
the magnet points to the mariner his unerring course from 
the old to the new world ; and by the exertions of one man 
of genius [Jambs Watt], aided by the resources of che- 
mistry, a power which by the old philosophers could hardly 
have been imagined, has been generated and applied to 
almost all the machinery of active life — the steam-engine 
performs not only the labour of horses but of man ; by com- 
binations which appear almost possessed of intelligence, 
waggons are moved by it, constructions made, vessels caused 
to perform voyages in opposition to wind and tide, and a 
power placed in human hands which seems almost unlimited. 
To these novel and still .extending improvements may be 
added others. Which* though of a secondary kind, yet mate- 
rially affect the comforts of life : the collecting from fbsbil 
materials the elements of combustion, and applying ihem 
so as to illuminate, by a single operation, houses, streets, 
and even cities. If you look to the results of chemical arts, 
you will find new substances of the most extraordinary na- 
ture applied to novel purposes ; you will find a few experi- 
ments in electricity leading to the marvellous result of 
disarming the thunder-cloud of its terrors, and you will see 
new instruments created by human ingenuity, possessing 
the same powers as the electrical organs of living animals. 
To whatever part of the vision of modern times you cast your 
eyes, you will find marks of superiority and improvement ; 
and the results of intellectual labour, or of scientific genius, 
are permanent, and incapable of being lost. Monarchs 
change their plans, governments their objects ; but a piece 
of steel touched by the magnet preserves its character for 
ever, and secures to man the dominion of the trackless 
ocean. A new period of society may send armies from the 
shores of the Baltic to those of the Euxine, and the empire 
of the followers of Mahomet may be broken in pieces by a 
northern people, and the dominion of the Britons in Asia 
may share the fate of that of Tamerlane or Gengis Khan ; 
but the steam-boat which ascends the Delaware or the St. 
Lawrence will be continued to be used, and will carry the 
civilization of an improved people into the deserts of North 
America and into the wilds of Canada. In the common 
history of the world, as compiled by authors in general, al- 
most all the great changes of nations are confounded with 
changes in their dynasties, and events are usually referred 
either to sovereigns, chiefs, heroes, or their armies, which 
do hi fact originate from entirely different causes, either o 
an intellectual or moral nature. Governments depend far 
more than is generally supposed upon the opinion of the 
people and the spirit of the age and nation.— Last Days qf 
a Pklonpher, by Sir H. D«Ty. Digiti d by Qq C 



[February 24, 


[Portland Quarry.] 

[Continued from No. 377] 

Portland being a part of the ancient demense lands, 
the quarries are held by the sovereign as lord of the 
manor, and let out to proprietors under various forms of 
tenure. The quarries are about 100 in number. The 
crown holds and works about a fourth ; and the rest are 
shared between "some half-dozen proprietors, who pay a 
nominal rent per acre, and a real rent of 2s. per ton for 
every ton of stone raised and shipped. The immediate 
management of the quarries is entrusted to stewards or 
agents, at fixed salaries, averaging 10/. per annum. 
Under them are several " masters" or foremen, who take 
the oversight of a certain number of men, and whose pay 
varies from that of a common quarryman to 50/. yearly. 
The quarry itself is usually worked by a company of six 
men and two boys, whose pay in all cases depends on the 
actual amount of stone " won" and delivered to the. agent. 

Before proceeding to explain the processes used in 
getting the stone, it will be necessary first to describe the 
structure of the crust or superficial strata of the island. 
A visitor would accomplish this at once by a glance at 
any clean-faced cliff in his neighbourhood, but in the ab- 
sence of ocular demonstration the following description 
and the cut in the next page will very clearly exhibit its 

First occurs the surface-soil, 1 feet deep. Second, three 
layers of grit, called " Bur-stone, Cap, & Scull-cap,' * or 
collectively, the "Turf-layer," 16 feet. Third, Roach-stone, 
9 feet ; which immediately covers the good PortlandLstone 
of commerce, in a compact horizontal bed of abouHS feet 
in depth. Beneath it follow various beds of clay, marl, 
flint, &c. Here then we have a superincumbent mass of 
earth and stone, 32 feet in depth, which must all be re- 

moved before a single foot of the good stone it covers can 
be procured, — a hard task, and one which is rendered 
still more so by the fact we have before mentioned, that 
tiU this is done the workmen are not entitled to any re- 
muneration. In a quarry of. this size, and worked by the 
number of hands described, the labours of three years are 
required to accomplish the task. First, the layers of 
surface-soil and rubbish are dug, and carried in strong 
iron-bound barrows, to be thrown over the fallow fields in 
the neighbourhood. Next, the " Turf-layer " is raised, 
but the obstinacy of its structure and its weight make it 
a work of serious labour. The strata of which it is com- 
posed sometimes present great solidity, and at other 
times are naturally split in large masses ; in both cases 
they have to be reduced to small lumps, and lifted into 
carts. The breakage is done by driving wedges, and 
other similar contrivances; and the lifting by a peculiarly 
formed shovel, whose long handle is laid along the thigh, 
and the load raised by a sudden jerk, the combined action 
of the arm and knee, and thrown into a cart, to which 
seven or more horses are attached, and by whom it is 
carried, either to be thrown over the cliffs into the sea, or 
piled up in large mounds at a distance. The Roach-stone 
is the next stratum, and as it is unbroken in its mass, of 
great hardness, and nine or more feet in depth, it requires 
of course a long struggle to accomplish its removal. Af- 
ter clearing the surface, the first step taken is the prepara- 
tion of a blast, for splitting the Roach into blocks suf- 
ficiently small for removal. A circular hole, 4 feet 8 
inches in depth by three inches in width, is then drilled 
in the rock ; filled at the bottom to the height of 24 inches 
with gunpowder, tightly rammed, and connected with a 

train on the outside. 

'Digitized by 

is then fired, and an explo 




aon follows, which splits the stone for several yards around 
into perpendicular rents of about an inch across. The 
masses of stone between these rifts have now to be re- 
moved, and as some of them weigh upwards of fifty tons, 
an amount of power would seem to be required, far be- 
yond the compass ofhalf a dozen quarrymen, and the scanty 
mechanical means at their disposal. The only instru- 
ments used are rollers of various sizes, and strong double- 
handed jacks ; months are consequently consumed in the 
slow-paced operation. Three of the jacks are placed 
against the mass, and then follows what may perhaps be 
justly deemed the severest struggle in which human bones 
and muscles were ever engaged. More than one hundred 
thousand pounds of stone have to be moved a hundred 
yards and more over heaps of loose stones, by half a dozen 
men ! The jacks being fixed in the most advantageous posi- 
tions, the men commence to heave round the winches ; and 
then the shrill cry is heard of " High, boys, high," repeated 
with great rapidity. Meanwhile the winches of the 
jacks, turned against so prodigious an amount of re- 
t make a progress as slow as the minute hand of 
It is sufficient, however, if they do really turn 
f-it is by the smallest possible degrees the re- 
, length accomplished and the pit cleared for 
on of the best stone. The exhaustion which 
\ occasion is evidenced by the frequent pe- 
riods of rest, and in the constant use of the water-keg, 
from which they dr^ink copiously. One of the men, when 
I asked him if the work was hard, said, " Sir, we are 
obliged to heave yur hearts out, and all in the sun too!" 
They do not, however, appear to suffer any permanent 
damage by their labours, and but little abatement of 
strength, even in extreme old age. A night's rest cures 
all. One old fellow upwards of seventy years of age, 
who was doing the work of the strongest, told me, that 
through thqt long period he had never known sickness. 
The secret of this is to be found in pure air, free expo- 
sure to all weathers, and a certain quiet of mind. 

When a quarry has been cleared of its rubbish, and 
the flooring of gotfd Portland stone brought fairly into 

view, the real business of a quarryman— that by which 
he would choose to be known — commences. All his pre- 
liminary labours have required little beyond the exercise 
of mere strength, but now judgment and ingenuity are 
called for in the selection and preparation of the rude 
lumps of stone for architectural purposes; and the 
labourer becomes an artisan. The cleared bed of pure 
stone is found to be split in numerous directions by what 
are called " gullies," and these of course divide it into 
masses, varying in size according to the width of the gul- 
lies. In this way blocks of every imaginable size and 
form are procured ; and when they have been wedged 
out, a council is held by the men, and it is discussed 
whether this one would make a pier-stone for a bridge ; 
another, a shaft for a column ; a third, a baluster for a 
parapet, and so on. These important uses determined, 
the masses are severally dragged to convenient spots, and 
reduced to square or appropriate forms by the action of 
a double-headed iron picker, called a "kivel," and 
weighing twenty-five pounds. The only business re- 
maining, previous to the delivery of the stones to the 
wharf, is to ascertain their weight, and to mark it on 
them. The former is computed by measure, 16 square feet 
being estimated to weigh a ton; and the latter by cutting 
the amount in certain hieroglyphic characters. A mono- 
gram of the proprietor's name is also added. The mea- 
suring rod used for the above purpose was covered with 
odd symbols, of which I could make nothing. 

When the stone is ready for delivery, it is lifted on a 
stage-like cart, with solid wooden wheels, exactly resem- 
bling the waggon of the ancients and the Moorish bull- 
cart of Spain at this day. To this is yoked seveu 
horses ; and in the case of the western quarries it is then 
taken to a railway station at the top of Fortune's Well 
hill, and entrusted to the care of a company, who send it 
round the hills, by inclined planes, to a wharf at the foot 
of the Chesil bank, a mile and a half distance, and for 
which they are authorized to charge 8d. per ton for stone 
of the best, and 4c/. for roach and other kinds of inferior 

[YVettern Cliff*, Portland.] 

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a ^ 



[Fkbruaut B£ 

We have mentioned that quarrymen are paid only for 
the Btone actually delivered from the quarry. Ten shil- 
lings a ton is fixed hy common consent as the average 
price, and this is supposed to include the value of all the 
preliminary labour. The money thus earned is placed to 
his credit, and at the end of six months an account is made 
out, and a balance determined, which is often against 
the workman ; the labour of " winning " the stone oc- 
cupying a period of three years ; and the men receiving 
nothing in the interval, the agents meet the destitution 
which would otherwise be suffered by opening chandlers' 
stores, and letting the workmen have all the larger neces- 
saries of life on account of their prospective gains; The 
average amount earned by a workman, if he were con- 
stantly employed, would be 12$. per week ; but this 
average is much reduced by various casualties. Thus, if 
it rain before nine o'clock in the morning, he is not 
allowed to work that day ; if the wind be high, the dust 
of the pit drives him from his labours ; should the mar- 
kets be dull, his week is reduced to four days ; if a burial 
take place, he is obliged, on the tolling of the church- 
bell, which commences at noon, to leave work for the rest 
of the day ; and should the deceased happen to be a 
stranger, he is even compelled, by immemorial usage, to 
attend and assist the obsequies. Added to this is the 
time lost by accidents, which m so perilous a trade are 
frequent ; and the co>t of tools also, which are found by 
himself. These drawbacks combine to reduce the weekly 
wages to an average of 9s. or 10s; but even that small 
pittance is frequently reduced to Is. 

The earnings of a quarryman being so small, and his 
family very commonly large, it may be worthy of inquiry 
how they are supported ; and as they are both well 
fed and well clothed, and have never resorted to 
" parish allowance," except in some few cases of extreme 
age and decrepitude, the subject becomes one of the 
deepest interest. The resource; H a Portland family are 
the following : — 1 . An acre oi' land, used either for rais- 
ing corn, potatoes, or the general products of a gar- 
den. For this 20s. rent and 10s. tithe and poor-rate are 
paid, and 30s. is supposed to be the cost of seed and 
miscellaneous expenses. The corn and potato grounds 
are mostly on thetop of the island, and the gardens on 
the declivities. On these little plots the men spend their 
leisure evenings and holidays in a diligent cultivation of 
the best vegetable products. In this way flour for the 
puddings, potatoes for the winter store, and, notwith- 
standing the sterility of the soil, a good supply of small 
fruits and esculent vegetables, are produced. Gooseber- 
ries, sheltered by walls from the sea-breeze, bear abun- 
dantly in the season. Gooseberry-cakes, of the size and 
form of Cheshire cheeses, may be seen drying in the sun 
(before baking) at many of the cottage windows. 2. A 
cow is often procured by the savings of the thrifty house- 
wives ; the grazing costs nothing, the Vern-hill serving 
as meadow land for the common use of the island. Milk 
is consequently cheap and abundant ; and home-made 
cheeses are found on most tables. 3. Fowls are numer- 
ously reared, and add the luxury of eggs to bacon. 4. 
On the Southern Downs the common mushroom grows 
in great abundance, and to an enormous size. I mea- 
sured some a foot in diameter. These are carefully 
gathered, and enter largely into the seasoning of a Port- 
land feast. 5. Water-cresses are found sparingly in 
moist spots, but are gleaned with diligence, and provide a 
relish for the breakfast. 6. On all the fallow-fields (and 
these are numerous, crops being raised only in alternate 
years) the Cuckoo-pint {Arum Maculatum) grows in 
unparalleled abundance, and the field is then called a 
" starch-moor :" the roots are gathered by the women, 
the farinaceous matter is extracted, and a fine supffcy of 
British arrowroot secured. Much of it is sold in Wey- 
mouth, and the produce brought home in clothing. The 
Society of Arts, by judicious gifts, formerly gave great 

encouragement to this manufacture in Portland. 1. 
Harvest-work is exclusively performed by Women ; and 
as none but Portlanders are employed, a comfortable 
purse is thus secured by many families for winter pur- 
poses. 8. Fish of every sort abounds, and is sold at low 
prices fresh from the sea. The village of Chiswell is 
wholly employed in the conduct of the fisheries. This 
is, of course, a very capital circumstance in the economic 
history of Portland ; and aa Weymouth takes all the sur- 
plus produce, an additional advantage is derived ha the 
many occasional shillings which the young women of the 
island earn by its carriage thither. 9. Shepherd's work 
on the plains is performed by the younger boys, who are 
paid in food and clothing. 10. Fuel costs nothing : the 
island is destitute both of coal anpl wood, and as a sub- 
stitute dried cow-dung is used. The females are em- 
ployed all the early part of summer mornings in col- 
lecting and drying it, and in stacking up a reserve for 
winter consumption. It burns with a low clear flame 
and emits much heat, but to a stranger has a slightly 
unpleasant smell. 

Thus the Portlander and his busy family, by an in- 
dustrious and prudent use of the scanty favours of the 
comparatively barren rock on which they spend their 
days, contrive to support themselves in a degree of com- 
fort rarely equalled by the poor of their own or any other 

. The frugality and perseverance exhibited in these pur- 
suits would naturally lead us to infer the existence along 
with them of a high tone of moral feeliqg. 

1 . They have no place of confinement in the island, 
and stocks, whipping-posts, or any analogous instru- 
ments or modes of punishment, are totally unknown. 2. 
The magistracy is a sinecure, a committal not taking 
place once in fifty yeare. " In shart y " said an islander 
whom we questioned, " an accident might Jiappen in 
that length, but then it would be a chance." 3. No 
persons are allowed to live together in an unmarried 
state. 4. The Sabbath is strictly observed with uni- 
form propriety. The degree of sanctity with which 
it is regarded may be estimated by the fact that I heard 
it related as a tale of wonder that in London boys 
were actually allowed to play marbles on Sunday. 5. 
The strongest oath and the common expletive is, "On the 
word of a Portland man." These facts, in connexion 
with various others of a similar but minor character, 
present an amount of public virtue as admirable as we 
Delieve it to be unparalleled in /he British Islands. We 
were happy, but not surprised, in learning that this de- 
sirable state of things is clearly traceable to the influence 
of Bible principles, a circumstance which we shall not 
stay here to prove, beyond stating that in the Wesleyan 
chapel at Fortune's Well, out of a congregation of 600 
persons, there are 170 approved communicants. 

The Portland quarrymen constitute about 500 of the 
population, and are evidently a distinct and well-defined 
race. They are nobly formed, and come very nearly to 
the finest antique models of strength and beauty. In 
height they vary from 5 feet 10 inches to 6 feet. Large 
bones, well knit and strongly-compacted muscles, con- 
firmed in their united energies by the hardest labour, in 
a pure atmosphere, give them a power so Herculean, that 
three cwts. is lifted by men of ordinary strength with 
ease. Their features are regularly and boldly developed ; 
eyes black, but deprived of their due expression by the 
partial closure of the lids, caused by tne glare of the f 
stone ; complexion a bright ruddy orange ; the hair dark 
and plentiful, and the general expression of the counte- 
nance mild and .intelligent. Their usual summer cos- 
tume on working days is a slouched straw hat covered 
with canvass and painted black, a shirt wich narrow blue 
stripes, and white canvass irousers. On Sundays they 
add to these a sailor's short blue jacket, and look very 
like good-natured tars in their holiday trim. 

Digitized by 





Having spent some time in inspecting the quarries, we 
may now proceed to other parts of the island. 

On reaching Blacknor Point, the road should he again 
taken on the edge of the cliffs. Inland nothing is to he 
seen but barren downs, dotted here and there with scanty 
flocks of Portland sheep. These are elegant creatures ; 
smallness of limbs, delicacy of features, and a certain 
look of goodnatured intelligence distinguish them. The 
mutton is highly esteemed in the neighbourhood. Turn- 
ing from the downs, the sight is perpetually relieved by 
the cliff scenery. Black and hideous caverns, "long 
lashed by rude winds" — rocks varying from one to three 
hundred feet in height, severed by convulsions from the 
body of the island, stand nodding to their fall — chasms 
of great depth, running inwards to distances beyond the 
examination of the most curious, intercept the path, and con- 
stitute, by the rapidity of their succession and the strange- 
ness of their forms and combinations, a series of magni- 
ficent pictures. The first mile of the walk will be 
amusingly diversified by the black-backed gull {Lotus 
marinus) and the herring-gull (Larus argenteus), who 
build in the cliffs, and rise in vast numbers on the ap- 
proach of a stranger, uttering a succession of sounds so 
like those of hearty laughter, that I repeatedly fancied 
myself the subject of human merriment. Occasionally 
also, in retired bays, various species of auks and puffins 
may be observed in small parties, swimming and diving 
in apparently the most harmonious rivalry. A walk of 
a mile terminates in a series of land-slips, m the midst of 
which several workings for the dislocated stone are esta- 
blished, approached by pathways so steep and narrow that 
the foot of a chamois would seem to be required for their 
safe passage. In these places the blocks of stone are 
tossed over to the beach, and lifted on board small vessels 
during calm weather. Proceeding onwards, the upper 
and lower lighthouses come into view. These are well- 
built structures, admirably ventilated, and furnished with 
numerous stationary burners of intense brilliancy. Each 
of these establishments is surrounded with two or three 
neat dwellings, for the residence of the families and serv- 
ants of the respective keepers. These abodes must be 
very monotonous ; — six months out of the twelve the 
winds are so high, the wife of one of the keepers told 
me, that "womenkind and such-like" could not dare 
to go abroad. From the lanterns a fine view is obtained 
of the Portland Race. 

The lighthouses were built to warn mariners of the 
dangerous neighbourhood, as well as to indicate the po- 
sition of Portland Bill, which juts into the sea immedi- 
ately beyond them. Proceeding forwards, the " Holes," 
" Jack Russell's Window," and " Large Hole Point," 
successively claim attention. These are caverns worn by 
the waves in the face of the bare cliff. Many legendary 
tales of starving mariners and sea-born sprites are con- 
nected with these caverns. What the guides regard as 
the very lion of the island is nothing more than a cavern 
of unusual dimensions. In stormy weather the sea 
rushes violently into this cave, fills it, and finding an 
aperture at the upper end, rises for a moment in a co- 
lumnar form, then sinks into the abyss beneath, to be 
again and again tossed upwards* 

[To b« continued.] 


In a small village in one of the northern counties of 
England there resides a mart of the name of J^* 
W*****» who at present is between thirty and forty years 
of age. When he was a little boy, he had the misfortune 
to become totally deprived of sight, though not before he 
ha& been a short period at school, where he had learned 
a little of both reading and writing, being considered a 
child of remarkably quick parts. His parents, who owned 
and oCCtrJtietl a sniafl farm, both died about this time, 

and their little blind son was received into the family of 
his paternal grandfather, where he continued to reside 
until he grew up to manhood. During this period no at- 
tempts were made to impart to him any useful know- 
ledge j for in that part of the country there were then no 
institutions for the education of the blind. Such being 
the case, the only active employment he engaged in was 
that of lending a helping-hand wherever he could assist 
in the duties attendant upon the management of his 
grandfather's farm. While a mere youth, he was con- 
sidered a sort of prodigy by his neighbours and acquaint- 
ances ; for he not only attempted many things that seemed 
far beyond the reach of persons labouring under the severe 
affliction with which he was visited, but he often actually 
succeeded where others failed who enjoyed the full pos- 
session of all their faculties. 

Amongst his youthful predilections was that of music, 
and in this respect he was by no means singular; since 
it is generally remarked that the solace of sweet sounds 
has peculiar charms for most persons labouring under 
blindness. Accordingly a violin was procured for the 
poor boy, who without any aid or instructions soon made 
such proficiency in the musical art, that the name of J+* 
W^**** was placed upon the already long list of " blind 

When he attained the age of twenty-one he came into 
the possession of the small farm that had belonged to his 
father; and notwithstanding that his nearest and best 
friends advised him to rent it out to some one, and live 
upon the proceeds (limited as they necessarily must be), 
and not incommode and trouble himself with its manage- 
ment, — he unfortunately was deaf to good advice, and 
actually entered upon his patrimony at the term subse- 
quent to his coming of age. Although, as has already 
been observed, he was remarkably active and intelligent 
for a person in his melancholy condition (for the loss of 
sight under all circumstances places a person in a melan> 
choly condition), yet when he took upon himself the mant- 
agement of his own farm it soon became apparent that 
he would have farmed better, and more profitably, had he 
possessed his eyesight. Several of his performances were, 
nevertheless, quite marvellous, — for with a pair of steady 
horses he was able to make pretty good work as a plough- 
man, and it was not unusual to see him driving his cart 
to mill or market. But his labours were not confined to 
the ploughing and tilling of his ground ; for in the time 
of harvest he might be seen mowing his grass, or with 
a sickle cutting down his oats and barley. Shortly af- 
ter he commenced farming on his own account he entered 
into the marriage state ; and at the present time he is the 
father of a family. But although he became possessed 
of a helpmate, his pecuniary prospects were far from im- 
proving ; yet before he became irretrievably involved in 
difficulties, he gave up farming to those who could better 
see how to manage it. Having disposed of his property, 
he then rented a small house that stood by the side of the 
high-road leading through the village ; and being bent 
upon doing something for a livelihood, he procured a 
license under the (then) recently-passed act for retailing 
beer upon the premises, and accordingly opened a beer- 
shop. But as the remote and out-of-the-way situation of 
the village precluded the possibility of his doing much 
business in that line, he turned his attention to dealing in 
horses (for which he had always shown an inclination), 
and frequented the fairs and markets all through the 
country. His friends attempted to dissuade him from 
embarking in a business that obviously required the pos- 
session of ail the senses — and particularly that of seeing ; 
but their remonstrances were again ineffectual. It must 
be admitted, however, that he was more of an adept than 
his friends had imagined; for on many occasions he 
would return from the markets with a more valuable horse 
than he had set out with — besides a few extra sovereigns 
in his purse; which he had realized by. his various trad- 
ings and exchangings. It was very remarkable, too, that 

Digitized by 




[February 34, 1838. 

in all his dealings and traffickings among horses he never 
met with any accident nor was he ever robbed of the 
smallest sum of money. 

Not among the least surprising feats of " Blind J***>" 
(as his neighbours and acquaintances familiarly called 
him), were the adroitness and accuracy displayed by him 
in finding out the bye-roads, gates, and dim paths leading 
to many of the secluded farm-houses in the mountainous 
and thinly-inhabited district where he resided. The 
writer of this article, who knew him in his infancy, and 
still knows him well, has many times had the curiosity 
to watch his motions when travelling through the lanes 
and meadows ; and the result has always been an in- 
creased astonishment at the accuracy with which the 
sightless equestrian would quit the main road, — force his 
horse up to some gate he wished to open, — unlatch the 
gate with apparent facility, — and then continue his route 
amongst the various turnings and windings, until he ar- 
rived at the door of the farm-house he was intending to 
visit. All this would have been the less surprising had 
he been mounted upon some old and staid animal to which 
the lanes and paths were mostly familiar ; but this by no 
means was the case, since, from his constant dealings in 
horses, he rarely made two excursions with the same 
animal. He was likewise noted for the breaking-in of 
young horses ; not only on his own account, but for any 
of his neighbours that chose to employ him in this way ; 
and what is very extraordinary, he never met with the 
slightest accident to himself or the horses under his 
charge; nor failed in subduing the most vicious tempers, 
nor of rendering them as tractable and gentle as it was 
possible for them to become. 

Notwithstanding that he had calculated upon consider- 
able profits from his beer-retailing establishment, as well 
as something in addition from his trading in horses, yet 
he could not hide from himself the disagreeable certainty 
that he was yearly becoming poorer and more narrowed 
in his circumstances. He therefore came to the resolu- 
tion of making the most of his musical talents ; so that 
that which had hitherto been practised as an amusement 
should henceforward become a source of emolument. 
Such being his determination, it soon became blazoned 
abroad that " Blind J***" would feel much obliged to 
the inn and public-house keepers in the surrounding 
country-towns and villages, if they would patronise him 
at the fairs, dances, and merry-makings ; and as his 
name was already favourably known throughout an ex- 
tensive range of country, not so much for his fiddling as 
for various other wonderful achievements as a blind per- 
son, he soon had the satisfaction of finding himself rank- 
ing with the most popular of the ambulatory fiddlers 
frequenting any of tne neighbouring districts; so that 
the money he made in his new calling, added to his other 
small items of income, seemed to bid fair towards ensur- 
ing for himself and family a comfortable subsistence. 

One of the most remarkable characteristics in J*** 
W^jhhh* was the uncommon retentiveness of his memory. 
This has already been partly exemplified in the manner 
he was able to ride through the country, from hamlet to 
hamlet, and from house to house, alone and unassisted : 
but after he became a professional attendant at the fairs 
and merry-makings as a fiddler, many more individuals 
had opportunities of observing this wonderful tenacity of 
memory ; for a voice that he nad once heard he never 
forgot ; and being (principally in consideration of his be- 
reavement) a general favourite, most of the young men 
(and many of the maidens too) used to make kind in- 
quiries after his health, on which occasions he invariably 
asked their names, and never afterwards forgot them, no 
matter where or under what circumstances they chanced 
to meet. 

In many parts of the north the ancient custom of itine- 
rant musicians perambulating the country a little before 
Christmas commences is still kept up. They journey 

from house to house, playing some familiar air before the 
doors or the windows of the rural dwellings, addressing 
by name the several members of each family, and wish- 
ing them a " good night," or a " good morning," as the 
case may happen to be. In this way they continue these 
nocturnal visits until Christmas begins; when laying 
aside their instruments, they perform the same journey by 
day, when it is expected that every householder will con- 
tribute his mite ; for it would be considered unpardonable 
to refuse a trifle to the " poor thwaites," as these itinerant 
minstrels are called. When the subject of these remarks 
had become a professional performer at the fairs, &c, he 
undertook to traverse by night a wide and wild district, 
for the part of the country wherein he resided was moun- 
tainous and scantily inhabited. Being a total stranger 
to many of the fell-side farm-houses, he considered it 
necessary to have a companion in these nightly excursions, 
with whom he agreed to divide whatever money they 
should collect at the end of the season, although his guide 
happened to be non-musical. The season was a remark- 
ably severe one, and the musician and his conductor were 
frequently exposed to severe frosts and storms of drifting 
snow. One night, when the frost was more intense than 
usual, and when the poor fellows were near the extreme 
limits of their nightly wanderings, about four or five miles 
from home, they reached the side of a rather small but 
rapid stream, across which they had to find their way by 
means of a score of pretty large but somewhat irregular 
stepping-stones. It was the guide's duty to venture over 
first, and explain to his sightless superior if there were 
any new or peculiar difficulties; and then the musician 
and his violin (for he would not intrust it to the care of 
another), aided by a long and stout staff,. undertook to 
pass over. It appeared, however, on the night in ques- 
tion, that the guide had neglected to inform J*** W****» 
that the surface of one of the stepping-stones was in- 
crusted with slippery 'ice, and the consequence was that 
the unsuspecting and courageous fiddler, having fearlessly 
placed his foot upon the treacherous stone, off it slid be- 
fore he had time to recover the false step, and the next 
moment he found himself plunging iu the rapid current. 
His presence of mind; however, did not forsake him ; for 
although he momentarily lost his footing, he managed to 
hold his violin high above the surface of the half-frozen 
river. This little adventure certainly had the effect of 
preventing him from completing his ordinary circuit that 
night — or, rather, morning ; for having lost his hat in his 
anxiety to save his fiddle, and being thoroughly drenched, 
he found it necessary to hurry homewards by the nearest 
route in order to escape from the ill effects of the intense 

But this little misadventure was far from cooling his 
musical ardour ; since about the same hour on the night 
following he was at the identical same place, and fording 
the treacherous stepping-stones. But on this occasion 
he was alone ; for as his companion had neglected his 
duty in making him acquainted with the difficulty on the 
previous night, he had given him to understand that for 
the future he should dispense with his attendance. After 
this occurrence took place, this extraordinary person con- 
tinued to perform his nightly long and rough journeys . 
alone; and which he undertook for several succeeding 
winters ; — and respecting which he has often been heard 
to declare, that upon the whole he was much better off 
without a companion ; for having so many rude stiles 
and fences without stiles to climb over, he found there 
was a considerable saving of time when not incommoded 
by a useless attendant. 

• # * The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge it a* 
69, Lincoln'* Inn Fields. 4 


Printed by WtuuM Ctoww and Sen, Staatxd Sfentt. 

Digitized by 


montylg &ttppfemtttt of 



Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 


January 31 to February 28, 1838. 


[Koranna Hottentots preparing to remove] 

It is scarcely possible not to be delighted as well as im- 
proved by the study of any one department of the crea- 
tion, or even any single object which it comprises ; and 
this is true both with respect to inanimate objects and to 
those " thoueand-fold tribes of dwellers, impelled by thou- 
pand-fold instincts," which exist in such profusion and 
variety in every part of the globe. There is something 
in the " life and conversation" of the commonest thing 
to excite our interest if we take the pains of investi- 
gation. But it is the study of man which has the 
highest claim upon our notice ; for we cannot enter upon 
inquiries into the history of his varied condition without 
enlarging the sphere of our own self-knowledge. If" the 
hoy is father to the man," so in the wandering savage 
some of the most civilized nations may see their own 
origin, and trace step by step their gradual elevation ; 
and they may also perceive the means by which they are 
sustained in their present dignified position, and thus be 
led to cling to and appreciate more highly those blessings 
and advantages on which civilization must permanently 
stand. The study of man is also advantageous in another 
sense ; by arousing that sympathy for our common na- 
ture which is sure to exist in a rightly constituted mind, 
Vol. YII. 

and which, when once excited, becomes active in its en- 
deavours to raise those whom ignorance or oppression has 
debased and degraded. The present and recent state of 
the aborigines of South Africa is not one of the least in- 
structive chapters in the history of man, though in many 
respects it redounds little to the credit of those wlio as- 
sume the rank of civilized beings : unhappily it may be 
paralleled in nearly all European settlements. 

The Cape of Good Hope, discovered in 1487 by Bar- 
tholomew Diaz, a Portuguese, is nearly the extreme 
southern point of Africa. A large expanse of ocean sur- 
rounds it on every side, extending on the west to the con- 
tinent of America, on the east to Australia, and on the 
south to the antarctic pole. The Cape was called by its 
discoverers the Cape of Storms, but was afterwards changed 
to its present name on account of the prospects which it 
excited with regard to the East, then the great current 
into which European enterprise, and particularly that of 
the Portuguese, was setting. An unsuccessful attempt 
was made to form a Portuguese settlement ; but for a 
long period the only advantage of the Cape to Europeans 
was its convenience as a shipping station and resting-place 
for mariners voyaging between Europe and the Eas-t ]n- 

Digitized by 




[February 28, 

dies. Hatl this land offered mines of the precious metals, 
or anything which could have heen rendered immediately 
productive without much labour, the cupidity of hosts of 
adventurers would have been excited, and the Cape would 
have grown into earlier importance as a settlement for Eu- 
ropeans. The individuals whom the old countries of Europe 
sent forth at this period did not leave the land of their 
birth on aceount of its economical condition pointing 
out emigration as a prudent resource, but they were bold 
and enterprising men, dazzled by the prospect of becom- 
ing suddenly rich, and hoping to gather the wealth of the 
East to give them consequence after a few years' absence 
from home. They would most probably have despised 
the emigrant of these times who sets out to lay the foun- 
dation of a new and humble home on labour and indus- 
try. The physical aspect of South Africa is not particu- 
larly tempting either to the trader or the agriculturist. 
It possesses few harbours, and is deficient in navigable 
rivers. The plains, which gradually become more elevated 
towards the interior, and are divided from each other by 
three chains of mountains running from east to west, do 
not comprise any extensive portions of fertile land ; and 
whole districts are singularly arid and devoid of vegetable 

On the banks of the rivers there are extensive patches 
of rich soil ; but this is owing to irrigation, without which, 
in many instances, the land would be unproductive. Such 
a country is evidently destined for pastoral and grazing 
purposes ; but even when the arts of cultivation are ap- 
plied in the most profitable manner, the land can only 
maintain an extremely sparse population. A large flock 
necessarily requires an immense district, for there must be 
room for occasional change of pasture in seasons of drought. 
"The natural resources upon "which the inhabitants of 
the colony have to rely for the support of stock consist 
of the wild pasturage, extending over tracts of coun- 
try by no means fertile. There are few places in the 
Colony calculated for the production of artificial grasses, 
although, with good management, and a command of 
water, they are found to resist and survive the long 
droughts which are common at the Cape. The natural 
grasses aboun4 with deleterious and astringent herbs, the 
taint of which is perceivable in the breath and milk of 
the cows, and which, at certain seasons of the year, are 
destructive to the cattle. Change of pasturage is found 
to be the only remedy for the numerous diseases with 
which they are affected, and which are rendered more fre- 
quent and destructive by want of care and protection 
from cold and wet weather. The north-eastern parts of 
the colony have been subject to the visitation of locusts, 
which are equally destructive to artificial as to natural 
pasturage."* The Cape of Good Hope was not, it is evi- 
dent, the place for persons who were seeking to make 
their fortunes by a few bold strokes. Even individuals 
little scrupulous as to the means of accomplishing this 
end were repelled by natural difficulties attending the 
conversion of flocks and herds, by some rapid means, into 
exchangeable wealth. For a long time, therefore, after 
its discovery, there was no establishment of Europeans at 
the Cape. Vessels touched there on their homeward and 
outward voyages, to leave on shore communications to be 
conveyed in the opposite direction in which they were pro- 
ceeding. These were put where they were secure from 
the effects of the weather ; and their place of concealment 
was indicated by a written direction fixed where it 
could not fail to attract the attention of those who landed. 

At length, in 1650, the Dutch, who then enjoyed the 
largest and most valuable portion of the East India trade, 
determined upon forming a settlement at the Cape, an 
outwork singularly well-calculated to strengthen their po- 
sition in the Indian seas. One hundred persons of each 
sex, taken from the houses of industry at Amsterdam, 
were sent out as the nucleus of a colony. Independent 
* Report of Commissioners of Inquiry. 

settlers soon arrived, some driven by religious or political 
persecution, others by the uneasiness of their circum- 
stances. The revocation of the edict of Nantes drove hither 
many natives of France, some of whom commenced the 
cultivation of the vine. Still the colony did not make 
much progress. Its limits were confined to the peninsula, 
of about thirty miles long, at the extremity of which 
stands Cape Town. The Dutch East India Company, 
in whom the government was vested, seem to have regarded 
the colony as entirely subordinate to the great interests of 
their eastern trade. It is impossible, however, for in- 
dividuals with many of the most important resources of 
civilization at command, and continually actuated by self- 
interest, to remain long without availing themselves of the 
advantages by which they are surrounded. From being 
at first almost shut up in their fort at Cape Town, the 
colonists Bpread themselves over the Cape district, com- 
prising a surface of 3,700 square miles; and now about 
200,000 square miles, an extent of country four times greater 
than England, is covered with their flocks and herds. 

Of the interests of the natives, as they were affected by 
these encroachments, we shall speak presently. * The 
number of Europeans, or the descendants of Europeans, 
in South Africa, does not exceed 120,000, and yet it was 
a much smaller number which acquired possession of all 
its material resources. The Cape-Dutch are the most 
numerous class. They are the descendants of the origi- 
nal settlers, or of those who subsequently came from 
Holland. The country population is almost entirely 
composed of this class, who possess immense grazing 
farms and extensive flocks. They are frequently termed 
Dutch-African3, and " boors," a corruption of the Dutch 
word for farmer. The common extent of a boor's farm 
is 6000 acres ; and in the remote parts of the colony 
they were formerly accustomed to set boundaries at 
defiance. " All is colony to us," said they, " where 
we can find a good spring of water and pasturage for 
our cattle." Sir John Barrow, who held an official 
appointment at the Cape after it came into the pos- 
session of the English at the close of the last century, 
states that " the usual mode of measuring out a new 
farm during the Dutch occupation, was for the Veld- 
wagt^meester to stride or pace the ground ; and half-an- 
hour's walk or stride in each direction from the centre 
across the veld (country) was the regulated extent of the 
farms." Even at a later period, Dr. Philips states, 
" The sovereign pleasure of the cattle boors on the Bush- 
man frontier is a range of pasture land which allows 
their cattle to wander without coming into contact with 
their neighbour's ; a chace so extensive as to enable 
them to supply their families with game, that it may not 
be necessary to diminish their herds which are intended 
for their market." The frontier boors never thought of 
dividing their estates (or, to adopt a better word, their 
domains), but sent out their children to occupy tracts of 
country as large as their own. Under these circum- 
stances, the youngest son naturally came into the posses- 
sion of the paternal estate. The want of fountains and 
springs formed the only limit to the dispersion of the 
boors and their families. Flocks and herds of 7000 or 
8000, consisting of horned cattle, sheep, and goats, is a 
common average stock ; and some of the richer boors 
possess above 13,000 sheep, and from 2000 to 3000 
horned cattle. There being none of the ordinary oppor- 
tunities for the display of wealth, a rich man is only to 
be known by the number of his servants and his cattle. 
The great object is for a man to establish his children in 
the same circumstances of ease and plenty as himself. 
Wealth is accumulated very slowly, but very surely, and 
is hoarded up instead of being invested. Some of the 
richer boors indulge in the luxury of an equipage ; but 
this consists of a horse-waggon. Many of the boors live 
in their ox-waggons while their herds are moving about 
in search of pasture. The possession of horses is re- 

Digitized by 





garded as another sign of wealth. The oxen are ill- 
shaped, but the breed is improving. The number of horned 
cattle was estimated at 31 2,569 in 1834* A few years ago, 
when the affairs of the Cape were subjected to the inves- 
tigation of a Committee of Inquiry, the greater part of 
the stock consisted " of a mixed breed of the native 
African cattle and those of Dutch Friesland, and, in 
later periods, of the improved Devonshire and Durham 
breeds, imported for the Government Farm at Groote 
Post." Between the years 1806 and 1824 the number 
of horned cattle had more than trebled, " notwithstand- 
ing," as the Commissioners remark, " the various dis- 
eases to which cattle are liable from the effects of noxious 
herbage at certain seasons, the difficulty of obtaining 
water for them in the summer season, and the depreda- 
tions of wild animals and of the border tribes." The 
Cape breed of sheep would not prepossess the English 
breeder ; its fleece resembles hair rather than wool ; the 
carcase is lean, the fat being accumulated on the tail 
sometimes to the amount of ten or a dozen pounds ; but 
being adapted to the climate, its value as stock is not to 
be despised. In 1834 the colonists possessed about 
2,000,000 sheep, including 20,000 of Spanish and other 
breeds imported for the purpose of improving the wool 
of the common breed. The stock of goats at the same 
period was one million and a quarter. The great disper- 
sion of the boors, and the ease with which, under the fine 
climate of South Africa, they supply their ordinary wants, 
will account for the small commercial value of these large 
flocks. An ox may be purchased for 30*., and a sheep 
for 6s. These is little aoubt but that, with more enter- 
prise, the wealth of the cattle boors might be converted 
into articles of exchangeable value. The exportation of 
hides and horns, and of wool, if attention were paid to 
the improvement of their sheep, might become objects of 
commercial importance to a much greater extent than at 
present. This external trade would consist, on the other 
hand, of importations of articles for which there is a de- 
mand amongst the native tribes, comprising the follow- 
ing: — all kinds of hardware, culinary articles, iron 
cooking-pots, cotton goods, especially handkerchiefs, 
used chiefly for head-dresses, and preferred to skin tur- 
bans, coarse descriptions of woollen cloths and baize,* a 
small sort of spade which the women use ; also blankets 
and rugs.t 

In noticing the state of the native tribes, we sjiall indi- 
cate another means of commercial intercourse which the 
Cape-Dutch might pursue with advantage. Without 
better opportunities of disposing of their surplus wealth, 
the boors cannot possibly preserve the civilization 
which they have attained, comparatively low as it is. If 
they were stimulated by the hope of commercial advan- 
tages, there is no class of people better calculated to 
realize them ; and thus they would be the means of at 
once preserving and extending the blessings of civilization. 

A few words on the character and domestic economy 
of the Dutch* African boors, whose influence in connexion 
with the interests of the native tribes is of so much im- 
portance, must complete this part of the subject. The 
Cape*Dutch still retain a striking resemblance to the in- 
habitants of their former mother-country. Slow but 
persevering, parsimonious and industrious, phlegmatic ;, 
these are the very attributes which are requisite in esta- 
blishing the prosperity of a new country, and which, dis- 
played Dy their countrymen in the United States of Ame- 
rica* have been attended with such unvarying prosperity. 
The Cape- Dutch however have less energy than their 
European forefathers ; and doubtless a pastoral life does 
not afford a sufficient scope for their peculiar qualities. 
The easy terms on which they could obtain labour has 
also undermined their industry ; and some allowance 

* Evidence of Rev. W. Shaw before Select Committee on Abori- 
gines, p. 127. 
t Captain Spiiltr's Evidence, p, 7. 

must be made for the lassitude occasioned by gross feed- 
ing, which is one of their vices, in a warm climate. The 
productions of industry have been less than they would 
otherwise have been, owing to these two causes. " I have 
in my eye," says Dr. Philip, " a farm in which the pro- 
prietor keeps 40 slaves and 30 Hottentots, and no one 
acquainted with fanning as it is carried on in England 
would hesitate to say that all the labour of this farm 
could be effected by 20 English servants." The boors 
are exceedingly hospitable and very inquisitive. They ar? 
large in stature, but not possessing great muscular strength, 
and generally inclined to corpulence. Throughout the 
colony there is little variation in their manners. Their 
houses have some resemblance to a barn, and are sub- 
stantially built of well-tempered clay, the outer walls 
being white-washed. There is no ceiling, the interior 
being open to the roof. The rafters are furnished with 
strings of onions, implements, guns, hunting apparatus, 
dried flesh of various kinds of game, &c. The house is 
divided into three apartments, one a sort of hall, in which 
the family sit and take their meals, and a room at each end 
made by a partition-wall of the same height as the outer 
walls. The private rooms are each lighted by a window, 
and the hall or sitting-room by two. Cooking is carried 
on in a small hut adjoining the house ; there is neither 
stove nor chimney in the dwelling-house. In a corner of 
the hall, within sight of the family, a slaughtered sheep 
is usually hung ; the consumption of a family, includ- 
ing the herdsmen and their dependents, being freauently 
two sheep a-day. The quantity of corn grown is only 
sufficient for consumption ; an orchard produces peach- 
brandy ; a vineyard, wine ; and frequently a small corn- 
mill is attached to the homestead. The flocks are folded 
every night, and this is usually a scene of great anima- 
tion, the farmer with all his family and servants assisting. 
'Thirty cows are milked out of a herd of about 700 head. 
Each gives very considerably less milk than an English 
cow. The child just born has an interest in the herd, a 
certain number of stock being marked at the time, and 
these, with the future increase, are the child's property.* 
This condition of an African-Dutch boor nearly resembles 
the patriarchal life described ia the Old Testament. The 
whole country for many miles round is often covered with 
the flocks and herds of the children and the children's 
children of some wealthy boor. We have now to con- 
sider the means^ by which they acquired these extensive 

If South Africa had been destitute of inhabitants when 
it was settled by the Dutch, it would have been a sub- 
ject of unmitigated satisfaction to have seen the natives 
of Europe occupying its valleys and fertile places, and 
maintaining themselves in plenty on the productions of 
its soil ; but there are drawbacks to this gratification in 
the present instance. The question naturally occurs — 
Has the progress of civilized man in this quarter of the 
globe tended to the improvement of its antient possessors ? 
If their condition has become deteriorated, then a great 
social duty has been neglected. A people destitute of 
arts must inevitably recede before men who can com- 
mand and combine the means of improvement ; or if they 
do not gradually ebb away, they must accept of servitude 
as the condition of their existence. If the aborigines of 
a country still remain barbarous after a long intercourse 
with a more highly favoured people, it is a proof that 
the intercourse has never been governed by principles 
which gave a fair chance to the original people of adopting 
new and improved habits. 

When the Dutch settled at the Cane, every part of the 
colonial territory was covered with the flocks and herds 
of the natives. The Hottentots occupied that part of the 
territory which is between Cape Town and the interior, 
and separated the Dutch from other tribes. They con • 

* In the late Mr. Pringle's ' South Africa.' an extended account 
will be ibund of the domestic economy of a Dutch- African boor. 


Digitized by 




[February 28, 

stituted a nation governed by chiefs , but the uniformity 
of manners and customs bound different tribes together 
and thus gave them a sort of national existence. Avail- 
ing themselves of the natural capabilities of the country, 
they had become herdsmen, and existed in a low stage 
of the pastoral condition. Had they been cultivators of 
the soil they would most probably have been prepared to 
defend every inch of their native land ; but a pastoral 
people have few interests to induce them to contend 
against the first appearance of encroachment. They are 
accustomed to wander in search of fresh pasture-grounds, 
and it is easier to give up a district to which they perhaps 
only occasionally resort, than struggle for its possession 
against powerful enemies. The natives have taken to 
themselves the name of Hottentot ; but it did not originate 
with them. Sir John Barrow says — "When the coun- 
try was first discovered, and when they were spread over 
the southern angle of Africa as an independent people, 
each horde had its particular name ; but that by which 
the collective body as a nation was distinguished, and 
which at this moment they bear among themselves in 
every part of the country, is Quaiquee." Though the 
Hottentots were a mild and inoffensive people they were 
not destitute of spirit. The necessity of defending their 
flocks against the attacks of the most ferocious wild beasts 
wguld contribute to infuse into them some degree of 
vigour and energy. Living under chiefs capable of 
exciting them to resist oppression,* they defended them- 
selves m several obstinate engagements with the early 
colonists, who entered into a treaty which was maintained 
for some years. At this time the number of the colonists 
was small, and policy and interest rendered them peace- 
ful neighbours. For about half a century after the 
Dutch had settled at Cape Town the good qualities of the 
Hottentots were candidly acknowledged. They were 
remarkable for their love of truth ; they were capable of 
warm attachment, grateful, and honest. Even at a 
much later period, their standard of morals is represented 
by old people as having been very high ; parental dis- 
cipline being strict, and great attention being paid 
to the morals of their youth.* Some allowance must 
doubtless be made for the clannish vanity which would 
attribute superior virtues to those belonging to the same 
tribe. They lived in * Kraals,' consisting of an assem- 
blage of huts, and enjoyed their property in common, 
one of them killing an ox or sheep on which all feasted 
alike ; and the next day being destitute of food. The 
women watched over the flocks while the men were 
hunting, milked the cows, attended to their household 
concerns, which occupied but little of their time, 
wove mats, and collected wood for their evening fires. 
Span-man, who visited South Africa in 1775, was one of 
the last travellers who saw the Hottentots in what may 
be regarded as their original state. He mentions a woman 
belonging to one tribe who was possessed of sixty milch 
cows; and that on the cattle of the kraal being brought 
home from pasture, the evening was enlivened by singing 
and dancing. Vaillant, who was in South Africa in 
1781, was delighted with the relics which he witnessed 
of a system of life of great simplicity. The independence 
of the Hottentot tribes is now a matter of history and of 
melancholy reflection, because it has scarcely yet been suc- 
ceeded by any better form of existence. 

The peaceful interval which the aboriginal inhabit- 
ants for a time enjoyed is doubtless entirely to be at- 
tributed to the fears of the colonists, and to their 
selfishness not being sufficiently stimulated. During this 
period they paid for the supplies of cattle which they 
needed for themselves and for the shipping which touched 
at Cape Town. When, however, the colony received 
fre*h bands ?f emigrants, its wants were sometimes 
gi cater than its means of supplying them. More land 

* Dr. Philip's ' Reseu'rchcs in South Africa.' 

was required to furnish the means of subsistence. Once 
beyond the reach of the fort, a steady system of encroach- 
ment became inevitable. The Hottentots receded, driving 
their flocks before them, and carrying the materials of 
their habitations along with them, to be fixed in a more 
remote district. Thither they were soon followed, the 
more unprincipled among the colonists finding it advan- 
tageous to carry their schemes into effect at a distance 
from the seat of government, where, as the readiest means 
of obtaining stock, they could plunder the Hottentots with 
the least chance of detection. The Colonial Government 
was not strong enough to repress, these distant crimes, 
and the scenes of violence which ensued were avenged, 
as opportunity offered, by the exasperated parties them- 
selves. The gradually receding boundary was traced with 
blood. In a despatch by the Dutch governor in 1702, 
he confessed his inability to repress these outrages, " be- 
cause half of the colony would be ruined, so great is the 
number- of the inhabitants implicated." This system 
could not long exist without the character both of the 
colonists and the natives being deteriorated. The former 
soon occupied the best pasture-grounds, and the Hotten- 
tots had then no superabundance of cattle to barter, even 
had they been treated with on fair terms. Without land, 
cattle would have been of no value to them ; and without 
cattle land was useless. Degraded and maltreated, the 
Hottentots came to be considered as intruders upon the 
land which they had once peacefully occupied. Some 
wandered into the remote and inaccessible parts of the 
interior, where they maintained a precarious existence. 
Others accepted the means of subsistence ftom the hands 
of the colonists, and their wives and children became 
dependent on their bounty. In time this connection of 
the aborigines with the Dutch grew to be worse than 
slavery. There was but little demand for their labour, 
and perhaps even in so cheap a country their mainte- 
nance was considered burdensome. At all events, the 
life of the Hottentot was wasted in dangers and- fatigues 
to which a man would not have thought of subjecting 
his slave, whose death was an actual loss to his owner. 
His spirit and energies were depressed by injustice, and 
he became such as his oppressors had described him— 
weak in intellect and destitute of conduct and fore- 
thought, exhibiting the natural course of oppression — 
degradation, and then its fruits — the vices which en- 
slave the oppressed, and thus do the work of the 

Allusion has been made to the state of the Hottentots 
when Sparrman and Vaillant visited South Africa. Even 
in the six years which had elapsed since the journey un- 
dertaken by the former the Hottentots seem to have 
undergone a change for the worse. Vaillant shows the 
political degradation of these unhappy people. He says 
(1781), " Some poor miserable hordes yet exist as they 
can in the different cantons belonging to the colonists. 
These have not even the choice of their owu chiefs, who 
receive this authority from the office of the Dutch East 
India Company, the Governor having an exclusive right 
to the appointment. Whenever a chief is nominated, he 
repairs to Cape Town, where he receives a large cane like 
those of our running footmen, with this difference, ihaA 
gthe head is only made of copper, on which is engraven 
in capital letters the word " Captain ;" from which time 
the unhappy horde (which has long lost its original 
name) takes that of the new chief, and is called, for 
example, the horde of Captain Keis ; and Captain Keia 
becomes the creature, the spy and slave of administra- 
tion, and for the horde a new tyrant. The Governor 
seldom knows the person for whom the office is solicited, 
taking him on the recommendation of one of the colonists 
near the Kraal, who obtains the office for one of his 
creatures, building on his gratitude for the patronage, 
and expecting to hold all the unhappy vassals at com- 

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(Kaffre Man.] 

In 1798 (eleven years after Vaillant's travels in South 
Africa) Barrow shows that as a people the Hottentots 
had no longer any traces of a national existence. " Some 
of their villages," he remarks, " might have been ex- 
pected to remain in this very remote and not very popu- 
lous part of the colony. Not one, however, was to be 
found. There is not, in fact, in the whole extensive dis- 
trict of Graaf Reinet a single horde of independent Hot- 
tentots ; and perhaps not a score of individuals who are 
not actually in the service of the Dutch. These weak 
people, the most helpless, and, in their present condition, 
perhaps the most wretched of the human race, duped out 
of their possessions, their country and their liberty, have 
entailed upon their miserable offspring a state of exist- 
ence to which that of slavery might bear the comparison 
of happiness. It is a condition, however, not likely to 
continue to a very remote posterity. Their numbers of 
late years have been rapidly on the decline." 

This gradual decline is a proof of the bondage and 
degradation under which they groaned. Some details of 
their sufferings are given by the same acute observer. 
" There is scarcely," he says, " an instance of cruelty 
said to have been committed against the slaves in the 
West Indian Islands that could not find a parallel from 
the Dutch farmers of the remote districts of the colony 
towards the Hottentots in their service. Beating and 
cutting with thongs of the hide of the sea-cow (hippopo- 
tamus) or rhinoceros, are only gentle punishments ; 
though these sorts of whips, which they call sjambocs, 
are most horrid instruments, being tough, pliant, and 
heavy almost as lead. Firing small shot into the legs 
and thighs of a Hottentot is a punishment not unknown 
to some of the monsters who inhabit the neighbourhood 
of C&mtoos river. By a resolution of the old govern- 
ment, as unjust as it was inhuman, a peasant (boor) was 
allowed to claim as his property, till the age of five-and- 
twenty, all the children of the Hottentots in his service to 
whom he had given in their infancy a morsel of meat." 
The cousequence was, either that individuals were left to 
*hift for themselves, after the best years of their exist- 
ence had been thrown away, or on some pretence or other 
they were etill kept in bondage. Unaer any circum- 
Hances they could not dispose freely of their labour. 

[Kaffie Woman.] 

The children of a Hottentot were claimed by his master 
as an indemnification for their maintenance ; a& it. was 
alleged they would have starved but for the nourishment 
which he afforded them. The children, however, from 
their earliest infancy, rendered some service in return. 

Although condemned to a deplorable state of servi- 
tude, the Hottentot could not be bought and sold, and con- 
sequently was deprived even of the selfish interest which a 
man feels in his working cattle. Acting upon this prin- 
ciple, his food was, according to the Rev. Dr. Philip, 
generally of an inferior quality, and less in quantity than 
that allowed the slave. He seldom had medicine when 
sick, and was visited with more frequent and more severe 
punishments than those inflicted upon the Blave. Mr. 
Pringle, in his work on South Africa, gives the fol- 
lowing statement on the authority of a gentleman long 
resident in the colony : — " When a Hottentot offended 
any boor or booress, he was immediately tied up to the 
waggon-wheel, and flogged in the most barbarous man- 
ner. Or if the master took a serious dislike to any of 
these unhappy creatures, it was no uncommon practice 
to send out the Hottentot on some pretended message, 
and then to follow and shoot him on tne road." A con- 
stant course of cruelty and oppression at length drove 
even the Hottentots to resistance. They fled into Kaf- 
freland, leaving their families behind them, and suc- 
ceeded in exciting some of the Kaffre chiefs to join in on 
irruption which carried fire and slaughter along the colo- 
nial frontier. The boors felt the vengeance of those 
whom they had so long oppressed ; but the only lesson 
which this outbreak taught them was one of cruelty. The 
people whom they had treated contemptuously were pu- 
nished for the spirit they had evinced. Their dastardly 
acts of retaliation at length aroused the attention of the 
authorities, and in 1811 the Colonial Government insti- 
tuted a special commission of inquiry, the proceedings of 
which were however interrupted by the death of an im- 
portant witness, and the recal of the earl of Caledon, 
then governor. The establishment of a Supreme Court, 
making periodical circuits through all parts of the colony, 
investigating complaints and trying offenders, was one of 
the benefits attending a vigilant state of public opinion. 
The circumstances of society did not furnish machinery bo 

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[February 28, 

well adapted as coutd have been wished for the repression 
of abuses, and a fair and impartial verdict could scarcely 
be expected from men exasperated and prejudiced against 
the Hottentot population ; but the publicity given to 
complaints before the Supreme Court had its effect in re- 
pressing the frequency of brutal outrages. The perma- 
nent condition of the Hottentot remained nevertheless 
unaffected by these partial ameliorations J and they were 
chiefly cases of gross cruelty which came before the 
Courts. The Hottentots could not possess land, and they 
were uniformly employed in the lowest grade of occupa- 
tion, without any hope of rising. The colonists, gene- 
rally speaking, were averse to their improvement, either 
by moral or religious means. So degraded was the con- 
dition of the Hottentot, that the female slaves thought it 
beneath them to marry one of these nominally free 
people. Such was the state of the Hottentot population 
for a long period after the English came into permanent 
possession of the Cape in 1806. 

We now enter upon a period in which there are indi- 
cations of the approach, if not the arrival, of a more gra- 
tifying era in the condition of the Hottentot population. 
This may be attributed to several causes, but chiefly 
to four, which must be acknowledged to have been 
attended with the best effects* They are: — 1. The in- 
crease in the European population, which gave more value 
to their services ; 2, the exertions of the missionaries, who 
laboured to demonstrate their capabilities of improve- 
ment ; 3, the acts of the local government, which placed 
them on a footing with the rest of the free population, and 
which have subsequently been marked by a desire to 
render this a real as well as nominal change ; and lastly, 
the abolition of slavery, and a more considerate and en- 
lightened policy enforced by the vigilance of public opinion 
in England. 

In 1806, the Hottentot population was estimated at 
20,426, and their number had increased in 1823 to 
30,549. Their gradual decline, which Bartow had no- 
ticed as a consequence of their wretched condition, had 
therefore happily been arrested. But still the change in 
their circumstances, to which this increase may in a con- 
siderable degree be attributed, was but slight. A few 
years after, m 1828, their case was fairly Drought be- 
fore the people of England by Mr. Fowell Buxton, who 
gave notice of a motion in parliament for extending the 
rights of freemen to the Hottentot population, and placing 
them exactly upon the same footing as the colonists. It 
is due to the government of the Cape, then administered 
by General Bourke, to state that it had caused an ordinance 
to be issued conferring this privilege upon the Hottentots 
only two days after the colonial secretary had agreed in 
parliament to effect the same object. This ordinance of 
the colonial government, which was afterwards confirmed 
by an order in council, is termed by Mr. Pringle the 
" Magna Charta of the Aborigines." It was not well- 
received in the colony. The slaves, said the colonists, 
might be emancipated, " if the rights of property were 
not involved," but it was absurd to expect from the Hot- 
tentots the energy and provident habits which are essen- 
tial to a state of freedom. The slave, they remarked, 
was careful and economical, adding to his little comforts, 
while the Hottentot recklessly spent his earnings in liquor 
or useless finery. They could scarcely have pronounced 
a more severe sentence upon their own past neglect. The 
ruin of the colony was confidently predicted as the con- 
sequence of giving the Hottentot the right of freely dis- 
posing of his labour, and it must be confessed there were 
some grounds for anxiety as to the operation of the change. 
Their servitude had been hard and cheerless, and the 
period of emancipation was anticipated by many, who 
left their service before the expiration of their contracts. 
Others became vagrants — a natural reaction, to be attri- 
buted to the small degree of personal liberty which they 
had previously enjoyed. The district towns, where cheap 

brandy could be obtained with little exertion, attracted 
many. A few were driven by their improvident habits 
to support themselves by plunder. These temporary 
evils were artfully increased by some of the colonists. A 
large majority of the Hottentot population, however, were 
not drawn from their ordinary habits by the colonial or- 
dinance, but continued under their old masters, protected 
by the law against those outrages to which they had long 
submitted. Punishment Was tto longer awarded them at 
the caprice of their employer, but could only be ap- 
plied for offences which the law designated as illegal, 
after a trial before a magistrate, at which evidence must 
be regularly taken. Adequate Wages were to be offered 
to them, or they could refuse to be employed ; and the 
increase in the European population was occasioning a 
demand for their labour, of which they were reaping the 
benefit at a crisis of great importance to their interests. 
The right of Hottentots to their children, which had been 
so often shamefully violated, was recognised. The pro- 
gress of improvement, though retarded, cannot wholly be 
stopped when once it originates in right principles. It is 
only from this point that we may look upon the Hotten- 
tot population as having fairly set forth in the career of 

The capabilities of the Hottentots for civilization ap- 
pear in a favourable light in those instances in which they 
have been fairly tried. In 1829, a colony of free Hotten- 
tots was formed in a tract of wild country, formerly oc- 
cupied by Makomo, a KafrYe chief. It commanded 
extensive means of irrigation, and was divided into loca- 
tions of from four to six thousand acres, in each of which, 
one, two, or more villages were formed. 

The arable land was divided into allotments of from 
four to six acres. A family obtaining one of these allot- 
ments was required to build a substantial cottage, to en- 
close the land, and bring it into a profitable state of cul- 
tivation in five years. These conditions being fulfilled, 
the property became the fee-simple of the cultivator and 
his family, who, if their conduct had been good, and they 
possessed the means of tilling more land, had the privi- 
lege of obtaining an additional allotment. The pasture 
land was held in common, and each colonist kept on it 
a quantity of stock proportioned to the extent of his arable 
land. A reserve oi land was made for a school and for 
the site of a town. In 1823, Mr. Pringle had proposed 
%, scheme for defending the eastern frontier of the colony, 
by a settlement of Hottentots established in a line of vil- 
lages. This plan was partially acted upon. Some of 
these free settlers possessed live stock, but the majority 
had nothing to subsist upon but wild roots, until they 
could obtain a return for their labour. The natural dif- 
ficulties attending the settling of a community were met 
with patience and fairly overcome. Canals of irrigation, 
indispensable to the cultivation of the soil in South Africa, 
were cut to the extent of 20,000 yards ; in many places 
piercing the solid rock. An abundant harvest rewarded 
their labours ; the Kaffres were beaten off, and the pros- 
perity of the settlement becoming known, its numbers 
were soon swelled to 4000, of whom 700 were armed with 
muskets. The settlement in its second year was entirely 
supported on the fruits of its own industry, and a surplus 
of 30,000 lbs. of barley had been disposed of to our 
troops, besides other produce conveyed to market. A let- 
ter, dated June, 1831, addressed to Mr. Pringle, gives an 
account equally favourable of the moral improvement 
which had taken place. " Legal marriage, says the 
writer, " is now become honourable among the people, 
and established and connected with their ideas of morality 
and religion." They also displayed much anxiety for the 
establishment of schools. Later accounts show that they 
were raising a superabundance of food ; education, mo- 
rality, and religion were making progress; the taxes 
were paid cheerfully. Fifty-five canals of irrigation hud 
been cut, of which forty-four measured nearly forty-four 

Digitized by 





miles; and the Kat River was becoming the safest 
part of the frontier. In May, 1834, the settlers on the 
Kat River had subscribed 499/. in money and materials 
to build a church. This is a gratifying instance of the 
elevation of a people whom there was some reason to 
fear were beyond the immediate reach of any ameliorat- 
ing process, however judiciously applied. The manner 
in which the change was effected shows how worthy the 
Hottentot people are to take their place as freemen ; and 
the warmest hopes may be indulged as to their future 
progress in civilization, if rational means be taken to ac- 
complish this object. 

The works of Pringle, Philip, and others, who have 
had opportunities of making themselves acquainted with 
the Hottentot character, abound with instances in which 
their good qualities have been brought out. Many parts 
of South Africa were covered with the aloe, the inspis- 
sated juice of which is valuable as an article of com- 
merce. The Hottentot population might have employed 
themselves very advantageously in collecting this juice ; 
but they regarded money with indifference ; they had no 
desires and no tastes to gratify, — a sure sign of alow de- 
gree of intellect. Dr. Philip thought that the establish- 
ment of a shop stocked with useful articles, the value of 
which they could appreciate, might have the effect of 
stimulating habits of industry. The experiment succeeded. 
" The sight of the goods in the windows and in the shop 
produced the effect anticipated : the desire of possessing 
the articles for use and comfort, by which they were con- 
stantly tempted, acquired additional strength on every 
renewal of stimulus. Money instantly rose in estimation 
among them ; and the women and the children, finding 
that they could obtain what they desired by collecting 
the juice of the aloe, were in a short time seen, early 
and late, engaged in this occupation, or in carrying the 
produce of their labour to the merchant's shop, to ex- 
change it for clothing and such other articles as might 
6uit their tastes or necessities.' ' 

Under the judicious management of some sincere 
friends to the improvement of the Hottentot people, they 
not only became skilful cultivators but good handicrafts- 
men. A blacksmith, masons, and carpenters were en- 
gaged to teach the people their respective trades ; and 
Dr. Philip says — " There are not, perhaps, better work- 

men in the colony than several of the Hottentot black- , 

smiths and masons." Mr. Pacalt, a missionary, pursued 'ledging a chief of higher rank as their head, 
the following judicious course of overcoming the natural ...... — ~ 

indolence of the Hottentots. Dr. Philip says — " It 
was his practice always to work along with them, and 
gradually to increase tne time devoted each clay to manual 
labour ; by this means he stimulated them to persever- 
ing exertion, and led them from those habits in which one 
hoar's labour in the day was a burden, to work with 
cheerfulness six or eight. Being accustomed to labour 
for themselves, they did not feel the same objections as 
formerly to work for the farmers] ana finding that by 
thus exerting themselves they could tjbtain European 
articles of clothing, they gradually renounced the sheep- 
skin kaross and clothed themselves in British manufac- 
tures. While teaching them to build their houses and 
cultivate their grounds, he enlivened the hours of labour 
by instructing them, in the most easy and familiar man- 
ner, in the principles and duties of religion." 

The chief employment of such of the Cape Hottentots 
as do not reside at the Kat River or other settlements is 
herding cattle, an occupation for which they are peculiarly 
adapted : they are good drivers also, and their services 
arc in considerable demand in this capacity. The boors 
frequently paying their wages in a certain number of 
cattle or sheep. The wages in money average from 
4?. 6ef. to 7*. 6d. per month, including living. 

There arc various branches of the Hottentot race in the 
colony, whose condition will be noticed in a subse^feent 
paper. Among these are the Korannas, a nomad race, 

as may be remarked in the cut, being compelled fre- 
quently to remove their habitations and seek fresh pasture 
for their herds : they hold an intermediate rank between 
the Kaffres and the ancient Hottentots of the Cape. 
Their habits are well described in the following lines bv 
Mr. Pringle:— * 

41 Fast by his wild resounding nver 
The listless C6ran lingers erer ; 
Still drives his heifers forth to feed, 
Soothed by the gorrah's humming reed ; 
A rover still unchecked will range, 
As humour calls or seasons change ; 
His tent of mats and leathern gear, 
All packed upon the patient steer. 

'Mid all his wanderings hating toil, 
He never tills the stubborn soil j 
But on the milky dams relies, 
And what spontaneous earth supplies. 
Or should long parching droughts prevail 
And milk, and bulbs, and locusts ftijl, 
lie lays him down to sleep away 
In languid trance the weary day ; 
Oft as he feels gaunt hunger's stound, 
Still tightening famine's girdle round ; 
Lulled by the sound of the Gareen, 
Beneath the willows murmuring deep : 
Till thunder clouds, surcharged with rain, 
Poor verdure o'er the panting plain ; 
And eall'the famish'd dreamer from his trance, 
To feast on milk aud game, and wake the moon- 
light dance." 

The Kaffres, next to the Hottentots, are the most im- 
portant class of natives with which the colonists of South 
Africa have intercourse. The term Kaffre, or Kafir, sig- 
nifying 'infidel,' is applied by the natives of North 
Africa to those of the south-east who are not Mohamme- 
dans, and by the Europeans of the Cape it is usually 
used to designate the Amakosa, Amatembu, and Ama- 
ponda tribes, which live on the colonial frontier. These 
tribes derive their origin from one common stock. They 
are possessed of for more energy than the Hottentots in 
their best days, and are in a higher grade of the pastoral 
state, adding the cultivation of maiae, millet, water-me- 
lons, and a few other esculents, to their occupation as 
herdsmen, and storing up grain for future consumption. 
They live in kraals of from ten to twenty families, under 
a subordinate chief ; a certain number of kraals acknow- 

w „ The chiefs 

are jealous of their dignity. They possess a few privi- 
leges which enable them w maintain a certain degree of 
importance ; thus they claim offerings as first-fruits, a share 
of the cattle slaughtered, and other privileges. Wars occur 
occasionally, and chiefly arise out of disputes about pas- 
ture-grounds, Their arms are a javelin, a short club, 
and a large shield made pf hide. The existence of a 
Supreme Being is acknowledged, but they pay him no 
religious worship, and possess no idols. Their ideas of 
a future life are vague and indistinct j but they believe 
nevertheless in spirits and apparitions, to which they 
sacrifice animals. They are excessively superstitious, 
and the Amakira, a prophet or witch-doctor, or rain- 
maker, exercises a most pernicious influence over them. 
Individuals are put to death at the instigation of these 
characters, and the prophet shares with the chief in the pro- 
perty of nis victim, some of the chiefs also pretend to 
have the power of procuring rain ; and if their predic- 
tions are verified they take the credit to themselves, but 
if they fail they attribute the result to the wickedness 
of the people. One of the most important of their rites 
this people have in common with the Jews, and its origin 
is one of the most interesting points in their history ; but 
they themselves can give no account of its introduction. 
They do not eat swine's flesh, nor fish, excepting 
shell-fish. They have no canoes. The right of property 
in the soil is limited to that only which is under cultiva- 
tion ; but the right of pasture is held in common bv 

Digitized by 




[February 28, 1838 

each kraal. Long-established principles and usage serve 
as a substitute for written law. 

The huts of the Kaffres resemble bee-hives in shape, 
and are usually from 18 to 20 feet in diameter, and from 
6 to 7 feet high. Poles are struck in the earth, and 
boughs are wattled in the interstices and made to arch 
over at the top. They are thatched with straw and 
plastered with cow-dung or clay. The fire is placed in 
the centre, without any aperture but the doorway for 
ventilation. The door is formed of basket-work. A few 
mats, coarse earthenware pots, of native manufacture, 
made of the fine clay taken from deserted ant-hills, a rush- 
basket, so closely woven as to retain liquids, and a 
wooden bowl or two, constitute the sole furniture of these 
simple dwellings. Milk is preserved in skins, and is not 
used until thick and sour, when it is more nutritious. The 
kaross, or cloak of sheepskin, rendered soft by currying, 
forms the dress of both sexes. The chiefs wear a leo- 
pard's skin by way of distinction. The females wear a 
covering of hide. The personal appearance of the Kaf- 
fres is pleasing. Lieutenant Moodie, in his ' Ten Years 
in South Africa,' says, " They are elegantly formed, and 
so graceful that they appear to be a nation of gentlemen. 
J n their manners they are respectful without servility, and 
possess a native delicacy which prevents them from giv- 
ing offence by word or action." The accounts of their 
personal appearance are generallv supposed to be rather 

exaggerated; but there can be little doubt^ from the* 
favourable testimony of many travellers, that their ap- 
pearance and carriage are really prepossessing. Prin- 
gle says, "The Caffres are a tall, athletic, and hand- 
some race of men, with features often approaching to the 
European or Asiatic model ; and excepting their woolly 
hair, exhibiting few of the peculiarities of the negro race. 
Their colour is a clear dark brown : their address is 
frank, cheerful, and manly." The women are not so 
good-looking as the men, owing to the labours which they 
undergo. The men will enclose their patches of ground 
and milk the cows, but the actual cultivators are the 
women, who likewise construct their huts. Polygamy is 
common, but it is confined to the most wealthy, as "the 
wives are always purchased by cattle. The women take 
their meals apart from the men. The custom of poly- 
gamy is believed to be of recent origin, and arose out of 
the number of unprotected women which followed a war 
in which great numbers of males were killed. The 
KafFre language is soft and copious, but the native 
airs are tame, and not to be compared to those of the 
Hottentots, whose language, however, is far less agree- 
able. Though prudent and economical, the Kaffres are 
exceedingly hospitable. Cattle are, generally speaking, 
only killed on the occasion of marriages or other fes- 

[To be eencloded in the next Number.] 

[KalFres on a M ireh.] 

V Tie Office of the Society far the Diffusion cf Ueeful Knowledge U«a» Lfncoiu'f Ian Fields. 



PriotM by Wim.iau Clou-h end Sons, Sumf..rJ Sfivet, 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 3, 1838. 


[ObelUk of Luxor, Place louis XVI., Paris.] 

The smaller of the two obelisks of Luxor, of which a 
?iew and description are given in * The Penny Magazine,' 
v ol. i., p. 113, is now erected on one of the most remark- 
able sites of Paris — the scene of many of those tragedies 
*Wh marked that most extraordinary period of modern 
Wory— the first French Revolution. 
Vol. VII. 

The space now called the Place Louis XVI. lies be- 
tween the gardens of the Tuileries and the avenue or 
road, thickly planted on each side with tall shady trees, 
which is called the Champ's Elystfes, or Elyeian Fields — 
a rather high-sounding appellation, for the walks under 
these trees are far inferior to the walks in the gardens of 

Digitized by GO^gle 



[March 3, 

the palace, of which a partial view is given above. This 
Place, or square, as it might be termed in England, was, 
about the middle of the last century, " a shapeless, unoc- 
cupied waste, forming a singularly uncharacteristic place 
of passage between the splendid garden of the palace and 
the Champs Elysees beyond, and breaking the continuity 
of what was otherwise one of the most prolonged and 
harmonious vistas of richly- ornamented landscape."* But 
in 1163, when a statue which the city of Pans had re- 
solved to erect in honour of Louis XV. was finished, 
this space or opening was prepared for its reception. The 
statue, a representation in bronze of the king on horse- 
back, supported by four Virtues, when first exhibited 
drew many sharp sayings from the witty Parisians, of 
which one 

" O la belle statue ! 6 le beau piedestal ! 
Lea Vert us sont a pi£d, le Vice est a cheval !'- 

The sting being in the second line, which points to the Vir- 
tues on foot and Vice on horseback. 

Before the buildings erecting round the Place Louis 
Quinze (XV.) were finished, the spot became the scene 
of a melancholy catastrophe. On the marriage of Louis 
XVI., then dauphin and heir of France, with the beauti- 
ful and high-spirited woman, the theme of one of Burke's 
most affecting descriptions, the Place Louis XV. was se- 
lected for a display of fireworks. On the conclusion of 
the show, the spectators began to leave the ground ; but 
others, not aware probably that the show was over, 
pressed forward, eager to occupy the places of those who 
were going away. A tumult ensued ; upwards of 300 
are stated to have been killed on the spot, and at least 
1200 were calculated to have died shortly afterwards 
from the injuries they received. 

The first blood shed in the Revolution was shed in the 
Place Louis XV. on the 12th July, 1789 ; and the first 
of the long list of victims who perished here on the scaf- 
fold was Louis XVI., whose name the Place now bears. 
Here, too, perished the queen ; the young, mad enthusiast, 
Charlotte Corday ; the " gifted and courageous " Madame 
Roland (whose last words were an exclamation addressed 
to the plaster statue of Liberty which occupied the site 
of the demolished bronze statue of Louis XV., — " Oh ! 
Liberty, what crimes are committed in thy name !") ; 
Louis-Philippe, the father of the present king of France ; 
Lavoisier, who asked for a few days that he might finish 
some important experiments in which he was engaged, 
and was told that the republic had no need of chemists j 
Camille Detmoulias and Canton, the latter of whom 
desired his terrible head to be shown to the people and 
the other slaves and tools of Robespierre ; until, as the 
wheel of murder turned round, it arrived at Robespierre 
himself and his fellow-butchers. 

The Place received a new name after the Revolution 
broke out, and the statue of Louis XV. was over- 
thrown : it was called the Place de la Revolution ; then 
the Place de la Concorde ; on the return of the Bour- 
bons it received its original designation of the Place 
Louis XV., which it bore until Charles X. changed it to 
Louis XVI., intending to erect a statue to the memory 
of that unfortunate monarch. The statue, however, was 
never erected; but .after the Revolution of 1830 an in- 
scription was put on the base intended for the statue, 
purporting that the site was designed for a monument to 
the Charter. It is now, however, as represented in the 
engraving, occupied by the Obelisk of Luxor. 

A ship, which was constructed expressly for the con- 
veyance of the obelisk, sailed from Toulon in March, 
1831, and arrived at Thebes in the heat of summer. 
" The first operation of the French on their arrival was 
to clear the lower part of the obelisks (see the view in the 
first vol. of the Penny Mag.), which was buried to a con- 

siderable depth. Both die obelisks a?e in a state of per- 
fect preservation: the 'larger is about 82 English feet 
high, and the other about 76 feet. To conceal this dif- 
ference, the smaller obelisk had been placed on a higher 
pedestal than the other, and somewhat in advance of it. 
Three vertical rows of hieroglyphics cover the faces of 
both obelisks : the middle row is cut nearly six inches 
deep ; the two others are scarcely cut into the stone. 
This difference in the sculpture varies the reflection and 
the shadows. The pedestal which was uncovered by the 
French contains on the north-east and south-west faces 
respectively four cynocephali, which have on the chest 
the cartouche that is considered to contain the name of 

" It is perhaps correctly remarked by M. De Laborde 
that the difference in the size of the two obelisks may 
have arisen from the difficulty of finding two block3 of 
granite of the same dimensions without a flaw. 

" The smaller of the two obelisks was selected by the 
French as being in a better state of preservation, and 
also lighter than the other ; and yet the smaller is calcu- 
lated to weigh about 246 tons English. The obelisk was 
lowered by very simple means, consisting of an anchor 
firmly fixed in the ground, a long beam of wood, and d 
few ropes and pulleys : the whole obelisk remained sus- 
pended for two minutes, during the operation of lowering 
it at an angle of 32 degrees. It was safely conveyed to 

It was erected in the Place Louis XVI. during the 
summer of 1836. It was exposed to some danger dur- 
ing the operation, not from the want of care or skill in 
raising it, but from a very different cause. " The Paris 
archaeologists," says a newspaper of the time, " are so 
rapacious that two guards placed round the obelisk of 
Luxor were not sufficient to protect the top, which was 
left uncovered. In spite of the penalties of the law, 
which are extremely severe, several fragments were 
broken off, and pieces not the size of a hazel nut sold for 
two guineas each. It was found necessary to cover the 
monument entirely to save it from these Vandals." 
When all the preparations were completed, the obelisk 
was safeV raised on the 25th October, the king and royal 
family witnessing the operation from the Hfltel de la Ma- 
rine, Place de la Concorde. 

French words are often used where English words 
might be found more expressive ; but in the present in- 
stance the phrase coup d'ceil is a good description of the 
view from the Tuilenes. The eye looks down the noble 
vista to where this fine remnant of ancient Egyptian art 
and opulence now stands, in the centre of that spot which 
was literally the " field of blood " of an awful time. 
Beyond it is the road running through the Champs Ely- 
st*es, ascending the gentle slope which is crowned by the 
triumphal arch begun by Napoleon, who died a prisoner 
and an exile, and finished by Louis-Philippe, who saw 
the commencement of that revolution in which his father 
perished, and which drove himself to wander over Europe ; 
and who has now become, by a second revolution, king of 

* Paris and its Historical Scenes ; 

( library of Entertaining 


The reader probably knows that Fisher, Bishop of Ro- 
chester, Chancellor of the University, and head of 
Queen's College, invited Erasmus to Cambridge, where 
he lived in the Lodge, and was made Lady Margaret's 
Professor of Divinity, and afterwards Greek Professor. 
" Erasmus's Walk," in the grounds of Queen's College, 
remains as a memorial of the University's adoption of 
this illustrious foreigner. Having already noticed his 
abode in Oxford, we shall give some of his remarks on 
the rival school of learning. 

* Egyptian Antiquities : < Library of Ea1 

Digitized by 

of Entertaining X 






In 1511 be writes thus respecting the commencement 
of his lectures : " Hitherto I have been lecturing on 
Chrysoloras's Grammar ; but my class has been a small 
one : perhaps I may hope for better success and a larger 
audience wnen I come to the grammar of Theodore 
Gaza. I may probably venture on divinity lectures ; at 
least a proposal to that effect is made to me. The profit 
is not object enough to make me anxious about it ; in 
the meantime I am getting on steadily with my own stu- 
dies, and putting ray best foot foremost : at the worst, I 
am deceiving a few months, as Ovid has it." 

Writing from Cambridge in November of the same 
year he says that he likes residence there better in sum- 
mer than in winter, but that he likes it at all times. But 
in the next month, December, he expresses himself in a 
more querulous tone. " I shall not be in London before 
Christmas, partly on account of the plague, partly for 
fear of highway robbery, of which the harvest is abun- 
dant among the English. For several months I have 
been leading the life of a snail in his shell, within which 
I have been confined and buried ; and have been doing 
nothing but musing over my studies. Cambridge is a 
mere desert. The greater part of the residents are away 
from fear of the plague ; and if they were all in college 
it would be a desert still. The expense of living is in- 
tolerable ; the profits of my office next to nothing. I 
have not been settled here five months, and have spent sixty 
nobles : one is all that I have received from some of my 
scholars, and that after a great deal of coquetting and beg- 
ging that they would not mention it on my part. I am de- 
termined to be off ; whither must be as the fates determine : 
but if I am to die it shall be elsewhere, and not here." 
A year afterwards he seems to be in no better temper ; 
for, asking a friend to transcribe a manuscript for him, 
or, if inconvenient to himself, to get it done through 
More, he says, " Here (what an university !) not an indi- 
vidual can be found to transcribe even decently, give what 
price you will." In another letter of 1512, writing 
from Cambridge, he complains that then he has to do with 
a class of men who combine the extreme of malice with 
the extreme of coarseness ; that when a friend had sent 
him a bottle of wine, it arrived half empty. His desk 
had been broken open ; in short, it was in vain to expect 
any humane offices from such monsters. He says he 
will not go to Montjoy's as long as Cerberus is there. 

In 1515 the same friend writes thus to him : — "The 
first thing I did on my landing in England was to in- 
quire where you were to be found. You had written to 
me to say that the plague had driven you from Cam- 
bridge ; out a common friend of ours told me that it 
was true you had run away from the plague, and had 
gone no one knew whither ; but that when you found 
yourself in a famishing state in the article of wine, you 
felt that to be the greater plague of the two, and deter- 
mined to face all the dangers of Cambridge, where you 
are at this present." 

In a letter written in September, 15 16, he expresses his 
satisfaction that his edition of the New Testament has been 
received with approbation by the best scholars in the Univer- 
sity of Louvain ; " and (as you tell me) by all persons of 
sound judgment. But I have been told by persons whose 
credibility is not to be sneered at, that there is one col- 
lege in your Cambridge, of high theological preten- 
Bions, erecting itself also into an absolute Areopagus. 
This court has passed a decree, prohibiting the introduc- 
tion of that volume within the fortified walls of their 
college, either on horseback or on ship-board, either in 
waggons or on porters' shoulders. Are these things 
more ridiculous or lamentable? The studies of such 
men only make them worse : their angry prejudices only 
stand in the way of their own profit. Good offices, of a 
nature to soften down brute beasts, only aggravate their 
moroseness. They condemn a book and tear it to pieces 
without having read it; and were they to read it, it is to 

be doubted whether they would understand it. * 'They 
have only heard over their bottle, or in the cabals of their 
senate-house, that a new work is come out, which may 
set divines about thinking; and forthwith they attack: 
with mere abuse the author who has endeavoured to assist 
their studies by his nightly watchings, and the book 
which contains the materials of that assistance. Which is 
this — Philosophy or Theology ? It must be a pestilent 
kind of philosophy if it have made them what they are ; 
a powerless and lukewarm one, if it cannot change them 
from what they were. They neither' refute nor correct 
what they hold to be the errors in my writings, but con- 
fine their charge against me to the mere act of writing. 
They themselves falsify the Sacred Writings by their 
ignorance or rashness ; but will not allow me to restore a 
single corrupt passage without summoning a general 
council of the whole Christian world.''' In a subsequent 
part of this long letter he attributes their hostility not so 
much to personal enmity as to their alarm lest the young 
men should wish to unlearn what they had been badly 
taught, and the temperature of their schools should be 
chilled by desertion. But this censure is confined to the 
one college in question : with respect to the university at 
large, he says, that thirty years before the time of his 
writing nothing was taught in the schools but Aristotle 
and Duns Scotus ; but that with the advance of time 
polite literature was added ; courses of mathematics were 
encouraged ; an improved version of Aristotle was pro- 
duced; the Greek language was studied, and authors 
were made text-books whose very names were not fami- 
liar some time ago. " What has been the consequence 
of all this to your university ? It has become flourish- 
ing enough to compete with the first schools of the pre- 
sent age; and has produced a set of professors and 
scholars, in comparison with whom the older sort look 
not like divines in the flesh, but the ghosts or skeletons of 

In a letter from Louvain, written in 1519, he says, 
" England has two universities of high reputation ; Cam- 
bridge and Oxford. The Greek language is cultivated 
in both ; at Cambridge quietly enough, because John 
Fisher, Bishop of Rochester, not merely a man of letters, 
but a sound divine, is at the head of that school. At 
Oxford a young man of competent learning was professor, 
and went on swimmingly enough, till, at a meeting of 
the general body, some barbarian railed against Greek 
literature with a torrent of abuse. The king happened 
to be in the neighbourhood ; and having some smack of 
learning himself, he always sided with those of his own 
taste. More and Pace took care that he should know 
what was going on; and his decision was, that they 
should all embrace Greek letters, and either be or appear 
to be fond of them. I can tell you another story of the 
same complexion. A certain divine, preaching at court 
before the king, began to inveigh against Greek learning 
and new interpreters y and his arguments were as weak as 
his impudence was strong. Pace was on the look-out to 
watch the king's countenance ; and he very soon gave a 
sly wink and smile at Pace. When the sermon was over, 
the preacher was ordered into the presence. More was 
commissioned to maintain the Greek cause against the 
adversary, and the king sat as moderator. More deli- 
vered a very eloquent oration ; his opponent, instead of 
replying, fell on his knees, and declared that he had 
nothing to say but to ask pardon ; at the same time 
pleaded in excuse that he had made this attack upon the 
Greek language in consequence of a supernatural sugges- • 
tion in the course of his sermon. ' Verily,' said the 
king, ' your inspiration was not from above, but from 
the* depth of your own folly. Pray did you ever read 
Erasmus ?' For the king was perfectly aware that the 
bolt was shot at me. He said he had not read him. 
'Then,': said the king, 'what a palpable fool you have 
proclaimed yourself to be in condemning what you have 
Digitized by VjO( M 2 


not read.' On that the preacher says, "There is one 
thing of his that I have read ; it is called Moria ' (the 
Encomium on Folly). Here Pace threw in his inuendo. 
' Please your Highness, the subject fitted him to a nicety.' 
The preacher thought he must do something to back out 
of the scrape, and therefore attempted a sort of recanta- 
tion. . * To be sure, I was wrong to take up such an un- 
founded prejudice ; for, after all, Greek is but a dialect 
of the Hebrew.' The king was thunderstruck at this 
wise discovery, and told him to get out of his sight ; but 
on this condition, that he should never show his face 
again as a court preacher." 

In the same year he writes from Antwerp to Lord 
Montjoy, congratulating him on the flourishing state both 
of learning and morals in England, and that not as any- 

[Mahch 3, 

thing new, but as having been the case of old. He no- 
tices the foundations of Corpus Christi and of Wolsey's 
splendid Christ Church in Oxford. He then mentions 
Cambridge as being much indebted to Fisher, Bishop of 
Rochester ; but attributes these splendid undertakings of 
the dignified clergy to the king's presiding influence and 
example. He then assumes the tone of prophecy, and 
argues from the profound peace then established between 
the kingdoms and kings throughout the world, that such 
universal and profound peace must be eternal. The 
consequence must necessarily be, the suppression of all 
vice, the vigour of just laws, the omnipotence of learn- 
ing ; and all this, with Henry VIII. at its head, as the 
first to show the example, as well as to deliver the pre- 
cepts of virtue. 


[Concluded from No. 379 ] 


The colonists did not come much in contact with the 
Kaffres until many years after the settlement at Cape 
Town had been formed. So long as the Hottentots 
had any cattle in their possession, it was unnecessary to 
extend their incursions so far into the interior as Kaffre- 
land, where they encountered a more warlike and ener- 
getic people. About the year 1774 the spoliation of the 
native tribes was not conducted, as formerly, by two or 
three lawless and unprincipled settlers who set the go- 
vernment at defiance, but had become regularly organ- 
ized, and acted with all the sanction of legitimate autho- 
rity. Under the pretence of obtaining cattle stolen from 
the colonies and concealed in the kraals of the natives, 
military parties, termed " commandoes," were collected by 
the " field-cornets." The frontier colonists were not 
backward on this service, as all the cattle taken were di- 
vided amongst the marauding party. 

The long resistance which the Kaffres offered to the 
commandoes which were constantly directed against them 
is a proof of the power and energy of this people. If 
fire-arms had been placed in their hands thev would have 
been more than a match for the Cape-Dutcn. 

It would be of little use to detail the acts of bor- 


der warfare, which continued for a long series of years 
with unmitigated hatred on both sides. On the colony 
coming into British possession, a treaty was entered into for 
the evacuation of a large extent of disputed territory ; but 
a subordinate chief only was consulted, and the other chiefs 
refused to acknowledge his power. ' A large force, con- 
sisting of regular troops, militia, and boors, drove them 
out of the district just at the period of the harvest. The 
chief with whom we had contracted this unauthorized 
treaty continued to be regarded by us as the head of the 
Kaffre population ; and the tribes which refused tc 
acknowledge his right to bind them to give up a portion 
of their country; which they had long occupied and 
regarded as their own, were plundered of their cattle, a 
large portion of which fell to the share of this chief 
Under the command of a Kaffre of great acuteness, named 
Makanna, who had no hereditary claim as a chieftain, 
but rose to eminence by his renown as a prophet and 
warrior, formidable attacks were made en the frontier, 
Graham's Town was attacked, and would have been taken 
but for the artillery which was brought up in time : 
1400 Kaffres lay dead upon the field when they retreated. 
The villages of these hostile tribes were afterwards 

Digitized by 



J638.] " 

ravaged* their cattle taken, and they themselves found a 
refuge only in the woods and other lurking-places, 
whither they were pursued with unrelenting animosity. 
At this crisis Makanna took the heroic resolution of de- 
livering himself into the hands of his enemies. Mr. 
Pringle says, that the air of calm pride with which he 
entered the hostile camp involuntarily commanded respect. 
Addressing the commander, he observed, — " People say 
that I have occasioned the war : let me see whether my 
delivering myself up to the conquerors will restore peace 
to my country." He had received assurances by his 
messengers that his life would he guaranteed, but that no 
assurance could be given him as to personal liberty. He 
was sent to Cape Town. A few days afterwards, a parley 
was demanded by the Kaffres, and two of them came 
forward for the purpose of learning the prospects of an 
accommodation and what had become of their com- 
mander. The simple dignity of these men excited great 
interest; and one of them addressed the British com- 
mander in so manly a manner and with so much feeling 
and animation that some who witnessed the scene involun- 
tarily shed tears. " The war, British chiefs," said he, 
u is an unjust one ; for you are striving to extirpate a 
people whom you forced to take up arms. When our 
fathers and the fathers of the boors settled in the Zure- 
yeld they dwelt together in peace. Their flocks grazed 
on the same hills ; their herdsmen smoked together out 
of the same pipes ; they were brothers until the herds of 
the Amakosa increased so as to make the hearts of the 
boors sore. What those covetous men could not get 
from our fathers for an old button they took by force. 
Our fathers were men ; they loved their cattle ; their 
wives and children lived upon milk; they fought for 
their property. They began to hate the colonists who 
coveted their all and aimed at their destruction. Then 
their kraals and our fathers' kraals became separate. 
The boors made commandoes on our fathers." After 
this brief notice of the origin of hostilities, the speaker 
recapitulated the wrongs which his countrymen had en- 
dured from the colonists. Makanna was transported to 
Roben Island, and was subsequently drowned in attempt- 
ing to escape. 

At the close of the war, Gaika, the chief whom we pro- 
fessed to protect, was deprived of a district of 3,000 square 
miles in extent, which was added to the colonial territory. 
Gaika prayed that they would " spare him the place of his 
birth," a request which met with attention. It is calculated 
that 50,000 head of cattle had been taken from the Kaffres 
during the dispute about this territory, which left many 
of them in a state of starvation, to relieve which they 
occasionally plundered the frontier boors of their cattle, 
and in one or two cases the herdsmen were slain. The 
border was in a permanent state of warfare, at one time 
more active than another, but still never wholly discon- 
tinued. Down to 1833 the attempt to treat with the Kaf- 
fres as men had not received a fair trial. The missionaries 
led the way to their improvement ; but missionaries were 
not allowed to proceed to Kaffreland until the year 1806. 
The manner in which Dr. Philip succeeded in rous- 
ing the Hottentots from their apathy and communicating 
to them new wants has already been noticed. It is 
believed that, in a similar manner, fairs held under the 
superintendence of the officers of the Colonial Government 
might have an equally beneficial effect upon the Kaffres. 
Hitherto the chief stimulus which they have obeyed has 
arisen from the desire of obtaining spirituous liquors, 
but if they acquired other wants they would be less dis- 
posed to indulge in habits of intoxication. Fairs at 
which no intoxicating liquors are allowed to be sold have 
been established in several instances. The Kaffres bring 
bullocks' hides, elephants' tusks, light javelins, baskets, 
mats &c., in exchange for glass and metal beads, tinder- 
boxes, knives, and other articles. Lieut. Moodie, in the in- 
teresting narrative of his residence in South Africa, shows 


that the beads and articles of small European value may 
be a legitimate medium of exchange for objects of a much 
higher intrinsic value. Until the Kaffres acquire the 
desire of possessing objects of real utility, those for which 
they have a taste, though worthless in our eyes, are really 
of the most value in theirs. Lieut. Moodie says — " The 
Kaffres, in their present state, have all that they consider 
necessary to their comfort ; and were it not for this love 
of ornament, which is deeply implanted in the minds of 
the whole human race, they would have no motive what- 
ever to increase their industry. As these beads or other 
ornaments become common, they decrease in value, and 
others of a different value or shape are sought after. In 
the meantime, though these articles lose their first value 
amon^ the tribes near the frontiers of the colony, they 
are still eagerly sought after by the more remote tribes, 
with whom they are interchanged for cattle, skins, ivory, 
and other useful commodities. Thus trifling and useless 
ornaments and baubles gradually become the current 
money among the different savage races of the interior, 
promote the mutual exchange of their commodities, and 
sow the first germs of civilization among them." In time 
these fairs will have the effect of creating wants, — the lever 
which must be employed in the advancement of all 
classes of men. If the coarse raw materials of the colony, 
for which there is no external demand, could be worked 
up in manufactures and disposed of to the native tribes, 
the prosperity of South Africa would be gradually pro- 
moted; as they would be exchanged for objects which 
are an article of European traffic, which would eventually 
be sent in exchange for British goods and manufactures. 
In treating with the'Kaffre chiefs, Mt. Pringle recom- 
mended the enforcement by the Colonial Government of a 
system of just and honourable dealing ; a convention of 
the chiefs west of the Keisi River, which should deter- 
mine upon a plan to be laid before them for restoration 
of stolen cattle, and for the regulation of commerce ; the 
periodical meeting of this convention, under the idea that 
it might form " a sort of legislative and judicial council 
for maintaining peace and good order among the inde- 
pendent Kaffre tribes." His suggestions, in short, may 
be summed up in the brief, maxim of treating them as 
men and brethren. In a recent despatch of Lord Glenelg, 
the secretary of the colonies, the policy to be pursued 
towards the native tribes is based upon this principle. 

The Colonial and Koranna Hottentots have been al- 
ready noticed. There are various other tribes, but the 
following are the principal : — 

The Bushmen are the remains of Hottentot tribes, 
and consist of wandering hordes who were once in the 
pastoral state, but have again become hunters, having 
been robbed of their flocks and herds by the colonists, 
and driven to remote districts for safety. They are now 
wholly destitute of flocks, living in constant alarm in 
inaccessible rocks, and changing their residence frequently, 
lest their haunts should be discovered. A hole dug in the 
earth, and covered with a mat raised on a couple of sticks, 
often forms their habitation. The parties who wander 
over immense tracts of country are unconnected with 
each other : even oppression has not united them, but a 
long course of cruelty has exasperated them against all 
mankind. It has been said that they have an uncon- 
trollable aversion to civilization ; and yet, by those who 
have studied their character, they are represented as by no 
means deficient in intellect ; bold and skilful hunters ; not 
indisposed for instruction ; susceptible of kindness ; grate- 
ful ; faithful in the execution of a trust committed to them. 
Not only did the Bushmen feel the savage system of com- 
mandoes, but they were murdered by the Cape-Dutch 
with the utmost coolness. The Bushmen missions arc 
represented as having been attended with some valuable 
results. Some of these natives of the wild desert had 
begun to handle the spade and the sickle, to raise 
Indian corn, pumpkins, water-melons, beans, &c. The 

Digitized by 




[March 3, 

mission by which these changes had been effected 
was put down by the Colonial Government in 1816. The 
Bushmen maintained their position for two or three years ; 
but oppression at length drove them into the deserts, and 
the country was given to the boors. 

[Bushman armed for an Expedition.] 

The Griquas are a race of mulattoes, whose ancestors 
were the offspring of colonists by Hottentot females. 
Treated as an inferior class by those of kindred race, and 
prevented from acquiring property, they gradually esta- 
blished themselves amongst the tribes beyond the Great 
Fish River, where their numbers were augmented by re- 
fugees and by intermarriages with the females of sur- 
rounding tribes. Forty years ago they subsisted by 
plunder and the chase, but the missionaries have met 
with much success in their attempts to improve them. 
The country which they inhabit is not well adapted to 
agriculture ; but they have now combined pastoral with 
agricultural occupations. Their habits, which were 
formerly scarcely superior to the brute creation, have 
been greatly improved. 

The Bechuanas are a fine race, and have an air of 
dignity which shows at once that they have never been 
enslaved. Their heads are cropped, leaving a tuft of 
hair upon the crown, some of them wearing ostrich fea- 
thers or wild cranes' feathers. They resemble the Eu- 
ropeans in their complexion more than any other tribe 
in South Africa. There is nothing in their appearance 
to offend the most refined delicacy. The chiefs and their 
families are much superior in appearance to the common 
people. The women are employed in all the most 
arduous labours, the men not condescending to give 
them the smallest assistance. The men use the Kaffre 
kaross. Their first appearance in the colony was in 
1824. The account they gave of themselves was as fol- 
lows : — Their country was a moon's distance from the 
colony y they were a numerous people, eating the bread 

of peace, and cultivating their gardens and corn-fields, 
unsuspicious of danger, when a people (called Bergen- 
dars) riding upon horses and with fire-arms came upon 
them and killed many of them, and took away all their 
cattle and many of their children. This i- one of those 
events which are doubtless continually occurring in the 
interior of Africa, bearing the population by their im- 
pulse out of their ordinary places of abode. The Be- 
chuanas regard any deviation from the customs of their 
ancestors as an insult to their memory. They never 
attribute death to any other causes than hunger, violence, 
or witchcraft. Notwithstanding many unpromising ap- 
pearances, the missionaries commenced their work among 
the Bechuanas. At first they would not permit the gar- 
den to be manured, as a superstition existed that the 
cattle of any kraal would die if the manure were removed. 
Their houses are of a circular form, resembling those of 
the Kaffres. J 

The Namaquas, once consisting of numerous hordes, 
are now dwindled to four, which inhabit the district on 
the western coast in the vicinity of the Orange River. 
Their vast herds have disappeared, and the people them- 
selves are fast railing into the servile hands of the Dutch 
frontier-boors. Dr. Philip says that the Namaquas and 
Colonial Hottentots are descended from the same stock, 
have the same physical and mental peculiarities, and 
are distinguished by similar customs. 

To effect a thorough change in the habits of the Colonial 
Hottentots, it was found necessary to commence at the 
sources whence they spring. One of the first steps was 
to improve their habitations, as a means of inspiring them 
with a regard for decencies and comfort. Their former 
dwellings of reed or straw wete unfavourable both to 
health, morals, industry, and economy. The earthen 
floor covered with filth, and the atmosphere full of smoke, 
not only increased that listlessness to which the Hotten- 
tot was prone, but rendered him sickly, and occasioned 
consumption to be one of the most frequent diseases 
amongst them. It was, for instance, quite impossible to 
pursue with comfort any occupation within them, and 
this had the most injurious effect in repressing improve- 
ments in the domestic economy of the women. The ab- 
sence of shelves where they might put their cooking uten- 
sils, and of conveniences for preserving their wearing ap- 
parel, was a grievous defect, which led to habits of sloven- 
liness. The taste for neat clothing, which might be antici- 
pated as the first indication of improvement, was dis- 
couraged ; as a dress on which at first they set Borne store 
was in a short time laid on one side. It will be at once 
evident that the elevation of the Hottentot character must 
be the result of attempts which shall be directed both 
to their moral and physical improvement, and which 
will re-act upon each other. 


[Continued from No. 878.] 

The next half-mile brings us to a low range of coast, 
made up of bare hard rocks, totally destitute of mould 
or vegetation, and split into " chines," so deep and dark 
that I felt an involuntary shrinking as I stepped across 
them. The beach is here diversified with breakers, over 
which the sea dashes unceasingly. Another half-mile, 
and the scene undergoes a total change — the land be- 
comes low, with a clothing of a warm red colour, inter- 
mingled with patches of green, caused by the thrift of 
our garden borders, with its radiated flowers of pink, 
which grows here in hard hedgehog-like balls. The 
road then runs over a low iron-bound coast, broken 
into every variety of angular forms, and at length termi- 
nates in a wide flat country, level with the beach, on 
which a portion of the royal quarries of Kingstown are 
situated. In approaching them it is difficult to believe 
you are not about to visit the ruins of some ancient city. 
Walls, pillars, and vast " cairns " of white stone are scat* 

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tcred over a surface of two or three square miles, with 
what Thomson, on another subject, has called a " regu- 
lar confusion." As these are the last quarries we shall 
visit, we embrace the opportunity of stating the follow- 
ing particulars, which will complete their history : — The 
whole amount of stone annually exported from the island 
is 25,000 tons, of which the royal quarries furnish about 
6,000 tons. The number of ships employed in the trade 
is about eighty ; and of horses on the -island 180. The 
market-price of stone when it reaches London varies 
according to quality from 16s. to 24$. per ton of 16 cubic 
feet, and pays a duty of 6s. per ton. 

The Portland ass — the donkey of the quarries, may be 
seen here to great advantage* He is larger than the 
common English ass, is finely formed, and remarkable 
for the length and set of the pastern bone, by which an 
elasticity is given to the step, that renders his carriage 
graceful, and makes him very easy to ride. He is usually 
saddled with two. large semiglobular baskets, between 
which, on an elevated seat, the rider is perched. Those 
used for draught, work in couples one before the other, 
and drag three-quarters of a ton over rough roads with 
apparent ease. 

Leaving the quarries the pedestrian will take another 
half-mile of the shore, which again becomes cliffy, and, 
gradually rising, attains a height of 340 feet. He will 
here have an opportunity of estimating the force of the 
sea in rough weather, as many of the blocks on the beach, 
of from forty to sixty tons weight, are actually worn into 
immense pebbles by its violence. 

Pennsylvania Castle, the residence of the late Governor 
Penn, may here claim attention. It is the only place in 
Portland assuming the dignity of " a seat;" and is also 
the only spot on which anything like a clump of trees is 
visible. An old historian, speaking of this circumstance, 
says, " there be very few or utterly no trees, saving the 
elms about the church (now gone). There would gtmv 
more if they were there planted ; yet is the isle very 
bleak." This sensible remark has been amply verified 
in the grounds before us. The common sycamore will 
stand the severest sea breezes, and under the shelter it 
affords almost any forest tree may be grown. By sur- 
rounding his land with a ring fence of them Mr. Penn 
succeeded in embosoming his house with a very agreea- 
ble variety of trees and shrubs, while all around him was 
a desert. A winding path leads us past a ruined oratory, 
to Bow and Arrow Castle, a noble remnant of the days of 
Stephen. It stands 300 feet above the level of the sea, 
on a perpendicular cliff split into rifts like the emptied 
veins of a lead mine, and so loosened by age, they seem 
every moment to threaten separation, and to bring the 
proud pile that crowns them to destruction. Turning the 
angle of the castle wall a fine view is before us. On the 
left there is a range of cliff scenery from 200 to 300 feet 
in height ; an uudercljff at its base, about 1000 feet in 
breadth, is covered with a profusion of dislocated rocks, 
amidst which many little clearance quarries may be dis- 
tinguished. To the right the sea spreads into the dis- 
tance, bounded in the horizon by the Isle of Wight, and 
more nearly by the white undulating cliffs of Dorsetshire. 
A walk through the ruins of the undercliff claims our 
first attention. A precipitous path from the castle leads 
to it. On reaching it the traveller will be surprised to 
see that what had appeared at a distance to be a " waste 
howling wilderness," is in Teality a paradise of flowers ; 
indeed, the undercliff and the adjacent heights consti- 
tute together the garden of the island. The land plants 
of the undercliff are -all of a miniature description, or 
what botanists would call "starved specimens;"— a 
littleness which results from the scarcity of earth, 
Diould being formed almost exclusively by the decompo- 
sition of the rocks. We may here remark, that the in- 
fluence of plants in the production of colour is much 
overlooked, and as they affect peculiar localities, and by 

their predominance give them distinct and highly cha- 
racteristic aspects, deserve the best study, both of the poet 
and the painter. In no place is this more strikingly 
exhibited than the present. Various species of stonecrop 
(Sedum) of a warm ruddy green fill the angles of the 
rocks ; Spurges, particularly the purple (Euphorbia Pep- 
lis), the sea (E. Paralias), and the Portland spurge (E. 
Portlandica), grow plentifully, and exhibit bright warm 
yellows, changing in decay to vivid reds, which, together 
with the former, give great splendour to the foregrounds. 
The golden samphire (Inula erithmoides), the scarlet 
seeds of the flags (Irideae), and the dark green leaves of the 
ivy, which is sparingly found, frequently combine with 
the pale red and pink flowers of various species of cranes- 
bills (Geraniaceae), to mantle the grey rocks with robes 
of beauty. Numerous species of lichens literally paint 
the rocks ; the majority of them are of a blueish grey 
tinge, intermingled with occasional patches of red and 
yellow. Warm clusters of ferns and harts-tongues 
add elegance of form to the splendour of the adjacent 

The margin of the sea is also beautiful. The sunken 
rocks of which the beach is composed are covered with 
fuci of every degree of warm tints ; and these contrast 
with the blue of the sea and masses of submerged chalk. 
The forms and motions of these aquatic vegetables give 
a gay character to the shore — some short and paddle- 
formed ; others long and riband shaped ; hundreds o 
every variety of branched and fibrous forms, and some 
again fine and delicate in their structure ; but all of them 
streaming in long undulating fields, gracefully waving 
with the advancing or retreating waters, while occasion- 
ally an uprooted conferva peeps above the surface, is 
driven towards the shore, dances awhile, and sinks at 
length, to be again and again thrown up to the surface. 
The often unheeded music of common sounds also lends 
its aid to the beauties of the scene. The sea, as it lashes 
over the pebbles in long sinuosities of foam, or swelling 
in broad sheets bursts on the larger rocks, utters an al- 
ternate series, of brisk .and hollow sounds. Linnets in 
happy couples chitter in their short zig-zag flights from 
rock to rock, till the echoing cliffs send back their sof- 
tened merriment ; the prolonged monotone of the wheat- 
ear lends an elevated and tender emphasis to the melody 
of the waters, while the blackbird in Governor Penn's 
shrubbery seems with his mellow pipe to plead against 
the gossip of the sparrows and the loquacity of the daws 
in the cliff tops. 

In returning to the castle it will be worth notice, how 
completely the character of the landscape is changed by 
viewing it with the face to the sun : in that position, the 
shadowed sides only of the rocks arc seen, and all appears 
harsh, angular, and dismal ; but turn your back to the 
light, and the warm sunbeams light every thing into 
life and beauty. The manner in which the various rocks 
decay will also deserve a passing observation. Most of 
them, being compounded of different elements, decay in 
the order of their coherence. In some, the soft matters 
vanish, leaving a curious aggregate of crystals, bones, or 
shells ; others shrink into singular honey-combed forms, 
or resolve in straight lines, circles, or shapeless masses, 
which leave the block tunnelled with large holes. Many 
decay in forms so strange, that they would be difficult to 
describe. We noticed one that looked like an enormous 
cluster of worm-casts. 

The walk on the cliffs from Bow and Arrow Castle is 
of a mountainous but softened character, and terminates 
in a lofty conical mound, called the Vern Hill, composed 
of clayey soil, and carpeted with the most delightful ver- 
dure. This, as we have before mentioned, is the Common 
of the island, and gives food to a considerable number of 
cows ; and here it is, therefore, the greatest quantity of 
the fuel of the cottagers is collected. The dung is 
gathered in baskets, andcarried to a sunny spot, where 

Digitized by 



[March 3, 1838; 

it is laid in rows within square borders of stones to dry, 
in which state it becomes a hard, compact mass. Many 
compartments may be observed with 500 or more of 
these cakes, with a ruddy urchin, proud of the morning's 
labour, turning them over to keep them from burning. 

The road to this spot abounding with land springs is 
consequently thickly clothed with vegetation, and is the 
place where the botany of the island may be studied to 
the greatest advantage. The following groups struck me 
as botanical pictures of great rarity and beauty. The 
white rose of Portland (Rosa spinosissima), the Burnet or 
Pimpernel rose of the mainland, a plant of exquisite 
beauty, grows plentifully amid the scattered rock stones, 
surrounded by ruddy sorrells (Rumex acetosella et ace- 
tosa) ; Yellow Vetches (Vicia lutea, V. laevigata, and V. 
Bythynica) ; Eye bright (Euphrasia officinalis) ; the 
whole shaded by the Tree Mallow (Lavatera arborea). 
In the little spring-courses beneath them various Mints, 
Rock and Water Speedwells (Veronica), Forget-me-not 
(Myosotis palustris) of extraordinary size, Yellow Rattle 
(Rhinanthus Cristi-galli), Glasswort (Salsosa fruticosa), 
and the common Asparagus (Asparagus officinalis). In 
the*corners of the fields clusters of the Evergreen Alka- 
net (Anchusa sempervirens), and Borage (Borage offici- 
nalis) grow in unparalleled luxuriance, and look exceed- 
ingly beautiful when flanked by the tall and pillar-like 
forms of the great English melancholy Thistle (Carduus 
belemnoides). On the open grass, and particularly on 
the Vern Hill, the late-flowering Orchis (Orchis pyra- 
midalis) is plentifully sprinkled. 

At the foot of the Vern Hill, near the Chesil Bank, 
Portland Castle is situated. Tliis is a fort of considera- 
ble strength, and, in connection with Sandesfoot, or Wey- 
mouth Castle, on the opposite shore, was once a very 
efficient protection to the island, and the bottom of the 
bay of Weymouth. It was built by Henry VIII., whose 
fame, and that of his family arid ministers, is thus ex- 
pressed in an inscription on the wainscot of the guard- 
room : " God save Kinge Henri, the VIII. of that name, 
and Prins Edwarde, begottin of Queene Jane; my ladi 

Mari, that goodli virgin, and the ladi Elizabeth so to- 
wardli ; with the kinges honorable counselers." 

From the top of the Vern Hill, during the spring and 
early summer months, a phenomenon of great and rare 
splendour may be observed. At those times, although 
the sun exerts considerable power, the air is still compa- 
ratively cold ; this is frequently the case in so great a 
degree on the coast lands of England, that immense 
volumes of foggy vapour are raised from the warm sur- 
face of the earth, and immediately condensed into bright 
fleecy clouds. These leave the mainland, and stretch- 
ing across the sea, cover the whole of the lower parts of 
Portland, the higher parts remaining meanwhile perfectly 
clear. On such occasions I made it my business to leave 
the " cloud- capt " valleys, and ascend as high as mother 
earth would permit. On the first ascent I saw the whole 
circuit of the island swaddled in what appeared to be an 
immense belt of rolling clouds, over which the suti was 
shining brilliantly. The sea was gone — the cliffs* were 
immersed — and nothing was visible but the flat top of 
the island, which looked like an Alpine garden floating 
in the clouds. . It was the most splendid sight I had ever 
witnessed. I saw this spectacle repeatedly during my 
stay in the island, and always found something new to 
admire. Sometimes the clouds would suddenly disperse, 
and then the coasts of England, the sea, and the base of 
the island, would one after another appear, and would be 
again immersed in clouds. At other times, the silvery 
veil would slowly leave the island, and sailing gently over 
the ocean, conceal first the ships, then St. Adhelm's Head 
on the coast of Dorsetshire ; next the Isle of Wight ; and 
then withdrawing, would reveal those objects in all their 
freshness and beauty. Occasionally, also, the cloudy 
canopy would not be equally dense, or partial rents would 
occur in it ; and then, perhaps, a ship, a house, or a cow 
would be observed, and look as if floating in mid air. 
The sea aids this remarkable spectacle, for although it is 
shut from view, its noise is heard, and lends a feeling of 
mystery to the scene. - 

[Chesil Bank, Portland.] 

V The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge is at 59, Lincoln's Inn Field*, 


Piiuted by W:llu« Clowis and Soys, Stamford Street, 

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or the 

Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 10, 1838 




[Sussex Truffle-Hunter, from an original Sketch.] 

The common Truffle is a sort of fungus growing entirely 
under grouud ; it is sometimes called the ground mush- 
room. There are several kinds, hut the eatable one, of 
*hick we shall give some account, is the most remark- 
able. Its form is irregular, roundish, or oblong, in 
*ome degree like an ill-shaped potato, varying in size 
from that of a hazel-nut to the bigness of a moderate 
sued fist ; the outside is black, dark-grey, or brown, 
covered over with a thick hard wart-like skin ; the in- 
side flesh firm, rather soapy to the feel, and has a netted 
cellular veiny appearance, of a light brown, or dirty 
*bite colour clouded with grey. Before the truffle is 
Vol. VII. 

ripe it has merely an earthy smell, but on becoming 
mature it diffuses a peculiar odour, very pleasant to many. 
The truffle is rare in most countries; and is much 
sought after as an article of luxury, it being used in the 
more expensive aud luxurious kinds of cookery to give a 
flavour to sauces ; it is also much used in meat or 
quince pies; and a turkey stuffed with truffles, and 
allowed to hang for some time, so that the flavour may 
be dispersed throughout the meat, is considered one of 
the greatest delicacies of the French kitchen. The tmfflea 
are also eaten plain boiled, or roasted, or boiled in gravy, 
with oil, salt, and pepper, as a sauce. 

r^ ^ t 

Digitized by VjOOQIC 



(March 10 

The truffle grows in most parts of the globe, Linnaeus 
found them in Lapland and Koempfer in Japan. They 
are however principally found in the temperate coun- 
tries of Europe ; in England, Spam, Italy, and in France, 
especially the southern parts, and in the north and south 
of Germany ; and both the rich goose-liver pies of Stras- 
bourg and the red-legged partridge pies of the south of 
France derive much of their exquisite flavour from being 
plentifully seasoned with the fresh truffle. They have 
oeen considered a luxury in all times. Pliny, Martial, 
and Juvenal notice them ; and both Apicius and Athe- 
naeus give an estimate of their merits in antient cookery. 

The truffle is usually found under trees in open forest- 
grounds, and in plantations of deciduous trees. In Ger- 
many it is stated that they are more generally found 
under or near the oak and the white-thorn. In England 
it is supposed that they are usually found under or near 
beech-trees ; they require, it would seem, to grow in a 
place shaded from the sun, and in light loamy soil. In 
England they are generally found in or near the chalky- 
ranges ; they are very plentiful about Goodwood, Slindon, 
and Eartham, in Sussex, and near Winchester and all 
along the chalky parts of North Hampshire and of Wilt- 
shire; and the impression seems to be that they are 
found in places where they were not previously known, 
where beech plantations have been made. The notion as 
regards the beech may be an error, and may arise from 
the fact that this tree usually forms part of the planta- 
tions made in the districts where the truffle is generally 
found : as the truffle grows eutijcely under ground, and, 
from its rarity, very few couM be obtained by a chance 
turning up or the soil, U is therefore usually sought for by 
dogs trained for the purpose. When the truffle becomes 
ripe, which is about the end of August or beginning of 
September, the strong ssfteU we have noticed is diffused. 
Dogs are taught to huju$ out the truffles by the odour 
and then to scratch them up* the usual depth being two or 
three inches under the suriace; sometimes however they 
appear almost out of the ground, and at others they are 
as low down as six or seven inches or more. The dog 
which is usually selected for the nurpose of training is 
either a poodle or a French barbet; Doth kinds are cfcocile, 
and have a good nose ; and moreover they have another 
merit, which is, that by not having any strong instinct 
for following game, they are not taken off their pursuit of 
the truffle on the starting of game. The education is 
very simple : the do& is first well taught to fetch and 
carry ; then the thing he is taught to fetch, and carry 
is buried in the ground, and he learns to scratch it up and 
bring it to his master (being always duly rewarded for 
his docility by a piece of bread) ; as his education ad- 
vances real truffles are usec^ as the subject to, te fetched, 
and then they are buried in the earth and the dog 
is set to find them, the master always bearing in 
mind to reward him for each successful finding. The 
Germans, it appears, use a paste of bread flavoured with 
old cheese. How far this may be successful we are 
ignorant, no flavour of cheese that we know comes near 
that of the real truffle. The old man represented in the 
cut, who is a celebrated trainer of truffle-dogs, generally 
keeps a few truffles either dried or soaked in grease 
through the winter, thus preserving in some degree the 
odour, to serve for teaching the young dogs. Alter the 
dog is sufficiently acquainted with the smell of the hidden 
truffle so as to scratch for it, the hunter takes him out in 
the field, generally accompanied by a dog already trained 
to the search, and these are set to hunt about, under the 
trees and in plantations and other likely spots, to discover 
by the scent and scratch up the truffle. The usual practice 
is for the hunter to assist the dogs, when they begin to 
scratch, with a spud, which is shown in the cut ; and as 
soon as the truffle is found each dog is rewarded with a 
piece of bread, which is better if it is flavoured by being 
kept in the bag with the truffles 

Those proprietors who are game preservers are gene- 
rally unwilling to let the truffle-hunters into their grounds, 
as they are sometimes tempted to change tins object of 
search and follow other game : the old man of whom we 
have given a sketch was sent for to Eartham for the pur- 
pose of explaining the mode of training the dog and 
exhibiting the manner of hunting: his good character 
has obtained him permission to range through the woods 
and grounds of Eartham, Goodwood, and Slindon, and 
a considerable range of country in the neighbourhood of 
Chichester. The dog is not the only animal that is 
taught to hunt for truffles ; the pig has been trained and 
is used occasionally in England, Germany, and Italy ; 
but independently of the pig not being so docile and in- 
telligent as the dog, he is very apt to eat the truffle he 
finds. The gourmand has many rivals for the possession 
of this highly esteemed delicacy ; the squirrels, the wild 
and tame hogs, the deer, badgers, and mice, are all eager 
in the search after them in the woods. 

The following is an extraordinary proof of the exqui- 
site sense of smelling that the truffle-dog possesses, 
and is related in Daniel's ' Rural Sports :' — " In the 
summer of 1802, a gentleman walked with a person who 
is a professed truffle-hunter : his dog found in the park 
at Amesbury, the seat of the Duke of Queensberry, manv 
truffles ; and as he continued his hunting, the dog, to the 
great surprise of his owner and the gentleman who accom- 
panied him, suddenly leaped over the hedge which sur- 
rounded that part of the park, and ran with the utmost 
precipitation across the field (which was a distance of at 
least one hundred yards} to a hedge opposite, where, under 
a beech tree, he found and brought in his mouth to his 
master, as the truffle-dogs are taught to do, a truffle of 
uncommon size, and which weighed 12 ounces and a half. 
" In Italy the usual method employed for the finding of 
truffles, or subterraneous mushrooms, called by the Ita- 
lians Tartufaliy and in Labi» Tubera Terrce, is by tying 
a cord to the hind leg of a fi$ an4 driving him, observing 
where he begins to root.** 

Truffles are to be procured ift Covent Garden Market 
during the season, the price varying from ten to fifteen 
shillings per pound- Ttay are a considerable article of 
export from parts of Italy and the South of France ; 
and in order to preserve theVa they are usually immersed 
in oil and the air excluded; little however of the flavour 
is reserved, and the gourmand, who is compelled to have 
recourse to these for want of the fresh ones, is obliged to 
draw largely on his recollection and imagination to supply 
the absence of the real flavour. There are some other 
sorts of this fungus, one only of which however is edible ; 
this, which is called the whate truj%e y grows about Turin 
and in other parts of Piedmont and near Florence ; it has 
a very strong flavour of garlic, and is only considered as a 
delicacy by those to whom garlic is not disagreeable. 
Some of this kind are said to be formed in the Wein- 
garten Forest in Germany. Many attempts have been 
made at different periods to cultivate *he truffle, as is 
done with respect to mushrooms, by bringing into plan- 
tations or under the shade of trees earth from the places 
where the truffle is found wild. We are not at present 
able to state positively whether any of these attempts 
have been attended with success. It would appear, how- 
ever, from a German book noticed in Loudon's ' Gardener's 
Magazine' for last September, that they had succeeded in 
this object both in Germany and in Hungary, though the 
author of the work does not profess to have witnessed 
any experiments on the subject. Although the vegetable 
is found in different stages of growth, hitherto no one has 
been able to ascertain its organs of fructification, or how 
it is disseminated. 

The preceding account has been collected principally 
from Loudon's * Magazine,' and the statement of the Old 
Truffle-Hunter of Sussex, of whom we have given a 

Digitized by 






(Oondoded from No. 880.) 

On the only Sunday which I spent in the isle, I had 
scarcely finished a late breakfast when the landlord of 
the " Portland Arms " sent to ask if I was ready for 
church, and whether I would " honour him " by taking 
a seat in the family pew. This request, so unusual in 
an innkeeper, was gladly accepted, and in a few minutes 
I was climbing Fortune's Well Hill in his company, on 
our way to St. George's church, two miles off, and the 
only one in the island. At this place, the morning service 
commences at half-past ten. At ten precisely* the sex- 
ton takes his post at the belfry window* and with to 
telescope keeps a sharp look-out for die clergyman, who 
lives at some distance. As soon as he appears in sight 
the watchman descends, and proceeds to spread the intel- 
ligence by tolling a large bell. Previously to this, the 
male worshippers arrive, and spend their time in loitering 
about the grave-stones, but the moment the tolling of the 
bell commences, a general bustle ensues ; some make 
their way into the church, but the greater part take then- 
stand at the door, or line the pathway* with a view of 
bowing to the clergyman as he passes. The women, 
meanwhile, obey the summons, and hastening to the 
church, arrive just in time to pay their courtesies to the 
preacher, who, with many land acknowledgments of their 
respect* passes on to the discharge of his duties. The 
church is a plain structure, built in a spurious Grecian 
style; it was consecrated on the 29th July, 1766. George 
II. gave 300/. towards its erection, and George III. 100/. 
towards its repairs. The interior is spacious* and di- 
vided into roomy and very high-hacked pews, on which 
the peculiar custom prevails of painting in conspicuous 
letters the names of the persons renting them, and the 
number of the seats held : — thus, " Zechariah White, 
Two Places ;" " Abraham Winter (my landlord), Sit 
Places." The panels of the galleries were painted with 
texts of Scripture. The choral department was under the 
control of an ill-toned organ, assisted by a clarionet and 
violoncello. When the people had assembled, the sim- 
plicity of their character was curiously manifested in the 
ease with which each one took the most convenient pos- 
ture. . 

The service commenced by a hymn from forty girls, 
educated in the church Sunday-school. 

The prayers followed. The responses were singularly 
dissonant — the prolonged sound of some two or three 
hundred bass voices, in which every word was solidly 
distinguished, for a moment startled my notions of pro- 
priety : I had forgotten my locality. 

Before service, the following verses were sung with a 
hoarse but eloquent emphasis, which, taken in connection 
with the disasters peculiar to the quarrymen's trade, was 
to my mind singularly touching and impressive : — 

u From common accidents of life 
His care shall guard thee still ; 
From the blind strokes of chance, and foes 
That lie in wait to kill." 

" At home, abroad, in peace, in war, 
Thy God shall thee defend ; 
Conduct thee, through life's pilgrimage, 
Safe to thy journey's end." 

After the sermon a collection was made to defray the 
expenses of lighting the church on winter nights ; — the 
money was taken, not in a plate, but in a Bandana hand- 
kerchief, laid loosely over the opening of a hat. 

On the close of the service, I took a walk over the 
island. The people were everywhere cleanly, and the 
females even elegantly clad. The latter wear ample 
gowns ; the hair, without curls, simply parted over the 
forehead and tied up behind ; and to protect the back of 
the neck from sun or rain, a large and variously orna- 
mented " curtain " descends from the hinder part of the 
bonnet. The intervals of worship are spent in conversa- 

tion; and if the day be fine, knots of from ten to twenty 
may be seen on the outskirts of the villages, seated or 
stretched on the ground, in a happy state of rest and so- 
ciality. The women keep house ; and the Children are 
sent to Sunday-schools, of which there are several. No 
games or drinlang-bouts "fright the isle from its propriety," 
but a cheerful and intelligent quietude seems to reign. 

There are two large and well-attended chapels at Chis- 
well and Fortune's Well ; and many classes for religious 
instruction in private houses in other parts of the island. 
At Easton, in the centre of the island, stand the ruins of 
what is called the Vicar's House. The inhabitants know 
tittle about it, ;but have a tradition that it Was a fine 
place, demolished in the civil wars. It was probably a 
tttonastic establishment. 

the walk over the top of the island will introduce the 
visitor to five of its seven villages ; and as they are the 
only peculiar objects which remain to be described, I 
shall with them bring my week in Portland to a close. 
It is hardly possible for human habitations to present, 
collectively, a more dreary andiinsocial aspect than a Port- 
land village. The houses of one of these townships vary 
from one to two hundred in number, and stand on each 
side of a wide, grass-grown road, full of ruts and covered 
with scattered stones. Not a tree or bush is to be seen ; 
no rural sound is to be heard ; the only objects before 
the traveller are monotonous piles of ragged stone walls, 
dust heaps, and bare rocks. There is, however, much 
that is individually interesting in these places. The 
houses are built to endure the local vicissitudes of the 
climate, and to meet the peculiar wants of the inhabitants, 
and are well contrived for those purposes. The walls are 
built of large blocks of the rougher sorts of stone, the 
chimneys of brick, and the roofs of broad thin slabs of 
stone, but sometimes of slate or tile, in which cases, to 
protect the roof from being lifted by the wind, the edges 
are bound with a treble row of stone slabs. The form of 
the roof is usually that of a gable, with a considerable 
pitch : the doors have those comfortable appendages 
which it is to be regretted are now totally out of fashion 
in poor men's houses — deep and well-seated porches, with 
square or angular tops ; these, together with the window 
bars and borders, are kept neatly whitewashed, and give 
favourable testimony to the cleanliness of the inhabit- 
ants, internally, the smaller houses are divided into four 
rooms, lined throughout with unpainted wood, and fur- 
nished with roomy cupboards, and are dry, warm, and 
free from vermin. The rent varies 3/. to 5 L per annum. 
In front of each house stands a hen-coop, built of pon- 
derous stone blocks, a dust-hole of the same huge mate- 
rials, and a cistern for rain-water, cut out of a solid 
block of compact freestone as large as the Belzoni sarco- 
phagus, and requiring almost as much labour for its 
excavation. Indeed, the size of the masses of stone 
commonly used in the construction of walls, door-jambs, 
gate-posts, &c, fills the mind of the stranger with asto- 
nishment. I measured one used in building a hedge- 
wall, and found it 1 feet by 5, with a proportionate 

Polite Manners of the lower Classes in Norway. — Mr. 
Laing, in his " Journal of a Residence in Norway," says, 
" I like the politeness of people towards each other in this 
country ; the pulling off hats or caps when they meet either 
strangers or friends. The custom is universal: common 
labourers, fishermen, private soldiers salute each other with 
a bow, and do not merely touch the hat, but take it off. 
This is carefully taught to the children, and even the school- 
boys bow to each other in the streets. Such a custom is 
not to be laughed at ; it has a humanizing effect The ex- 
terior form of good-will, although but a form, introduces a 
pause before any expression of ill-will or passion can be 
indulged. * * There is something good even in the forms 
of goodness ; and it is not unimportant, that, though only 
mechanical, they should be observed by the very lowest class 
in their ordinary intercourse." 

Digitized by 



BARRY'S PICTURES.— II. A Grecian Harvest-Homb. 

[March 10, 

[Grecian Harvest-Home.] 

" These woods were first the seat of sylvan powers, 
Of nymphs and fawns, and savage men who took 
Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn oak* 
Nor laws they knew, nor manners, nor the care 
Of labouring oxen, or the shining share ; 
Nor arts of pain, nor what they gain'd to spare. 
Their exercise the chase ; the running flood 
Supplied their thirst ; the trees supplied their food. 
Then Saturn came, who fled the power of Jove. 
Robb*d of his realms, and banish'd from above. 
The men, dispersed on hills, to towns he brought, 
And laws ordain'd and civil customs taught." 

Drydsn's Viroil. 

The lines above express the idea which Barry had in 
view in the transition between his first and second pic- 
tures. The " savage men," whom he represents as the 
auditors of Orpheus, are now advanced an important 
stage m civilization ; they are gathered into commu- 
nities, have " laws ordained and civil customs taught," 
and are enjoying the fruits of their cultivation of the soil, 
the source of all wealth. " The warm glow of colour- 
ing," says the description, " spread over this picture, 
and the elegance of the figures in the more conspicuous 
parts of it, form a striking contrast to the first picture. 
The season is, as the title expresses, that of harvest ; and 
as most of the persons represented are employed in rural 
sports, the evening is chosen, as the most proper time 
for such relaxation from the labour of the field. 

" In the foreground is a double terminal figure of 
Sylvanus and Pan, round which young men and women 
are dancing to the music of a rural pipe and tabor. 
Behind them are oxen with a load of corn, and other 
characteristic marks of the season of the year. On one 
side of the youthful group appear the aged parents, be- 
holding the festivity; the father with a fillet round his 
head, and with a staff. In the opposite corner of the pic- 
ture are some rustics sitting, in drunken disorder, with the 

fruits of the earth and implements of husbandry near them. 
These are introduced as a foil to the dancing figures. 

" The distant parts of the picture exhibit a view of a 
fertile cultivated country, with a farm-house, near which 
are men wrestling, and engaged in other manly exercises 
which strengthen the body ; aged men are sitting and 
lying along, discoursing, and enjoying a view of those 
athletic sports in which they can no longer engage. Here 
are also seen the various employments of a country life, 
as binding corn, of tending bees: everywhere there 
are a number of children. A marriage procession is 
advancing from a distant temple ; and the joy of the 
accompanying figures expresses the happiness arising on 
such occasions, the labourers even suspending their work 
to hail the happy pair ; in short, whatever can best point 
out a state of happiness, simplicity, and fecundity, in 
which, though not attended with much eclat, the duty 
we owe to God, our neighbour, and ourselves, is perhaps 
better attended to than in any other state of life. As 
embellishments the artist has introduced into the picture 
a peacock in fine plumage, sitting on a pent house ; and 
at the top, Ceres, Bacchus, Pan, &c, are looking down 
on the festivity of their votaries ; behind them is a limb 
of the zodiac, with the signs Leo, Virgo, and Libra, which 
mark the season of the year." 

The Greek name of Bacchus is Dionysus ; and the 
festivals which were held in honour of him, four in num- 
ber, were called Dionysia. The earliest form of idolatry 
was a worship of what appeared to be the animating or 
productive powers of nature, the sun, moon, stars, winds, 
and " mother elements," descending gradually, till, in 
the Greek ritual, the " false gods," which w'ere wor- 
shipped, were endowed with human form and passions, 
and interposed their influence in all the concerns of life. 
Demeter, whom the Romans termed Ceres, was the re- 

Digitized by 





irth and its productions, as her 

' expresses. In the Grecian mytho- 

ifsociated with Dionysus, or Bac- 

Dionysus the companion of De- 

he is represented sitting by the 
awn by male and female centaurs." 
stivals held in honour of the re- 
al Dionysia was probably the most 
ited all over Attica, the other three 
ns. It was a festival of the vintage, 
its origin, a testimony to' the truth 

1 when he was exhorting the inha- 
;urn from * these vanities ' to the 
tual Being who created all things : 
■ without witness in that He did 
l from heaven, and fruitful seasons, 

food and gladness.' " 
bration of these festivals that the 
mted ; and we even see the rudi- 
q the picture, of which our wood- 
e can be no doubt that the music 
Greeks were among the chief causes 
irard in civilization. Even the in- 
, a name which has been for two 
of rural innocence and simplicity, 
een at first as rude as their cattle, 
on acorns ; and their own country- 
es their improvement to music. 
)f the picture that prepossession or 
ies the agricultural life to be the 
appy is put in a doubtful form : it 
n which our duties are " perhaps 
han in any other state of life." 
jh, like many other prejudices, it 
ids of not a few, is fast melting 
turc. It is doubtful if any future 
r obtain attention, far less a repu- 
af shepherds and shepherdesses, 
1 blessedness of a country life, 
a fixing point in civilization : bring 
\ to settle down to the cultivation of 
dation is laid of a nation, of wealth, 
mprovement. But let that nation 
remain an agricultural nation, and the chance is that, so 
far from advancing, it will retrograde. Nations purely 
agricultural have never done much for the human race. 
Men pent up in cities, and longing to escape from that 
artificial and microcosmic life which is too often, but not 
necessarily, its characteristic, may envy the apparent 
quietness of the agricultural state ; but they look at it 
from a distance, which " lends enchantment to the. view." 
The introduction of the deities in visible form at the 
top of the picture might be objected to as a prosaical 
effort to introduce to our notice the objects of rural wor- 
ship. But we must recollect that the worship of the 
Greeks was anything but spiritual ; it was bodily and 
palpable, peopling every grove, river, and fountain with 
living creatures, claiming the adoration of their votaries. 
u The lively Grecian, in a land of hills, 

Rivers, and fertile plains, and sounding shores, 

Under a cope of variegated sky, 

Could find commodious place for every god. 

Promptly received as prodigally brought, 

From the surrounding countries — at the choice 

Of all adventurers. With unrivalled skill, 

As nicest observation furnished hints 

For studious fancy, did his hand bestow 

On fluent operations a fixed shape , 

Metal or stone, idolatrously served. 

And yet — triumphant o'er this pompous show 

Of art, this palpable array of sense, 

On every side encountered ; in despite 

Of the gross fictions, chanted in the streets 

By wandering rhapsodists ; and in contempt 

Of doubt and bold denials hourly urged 

Amid the wrangling schools — a spirit hung. 

Beautiful region ! o'er thy towns and farms. 



The Peninsula of India, in comparison with the country 
immediately adjoining it on the north, may be described 
in a general way as a vast plain, with a burning climate, 
where Europeans cannot expose themselves to the sun 
without risk of fatal consequences. The northern bound- 
ary of this torrid region is an extensive range of the 
highest mountains on the surface of the globe, covered 
in many parts with everlasting snow, rugged, barren, 
and desolate; and resembling, where inhabitable, the 
valleys of Norway, with their pine and birch forests, 
rather than a country so near the hot plains of Hindustan. 
There is no gradation of climate, as in Europe ; a few 
days, or, with our means of travelling, a few hours, suffice 
to carry a traveller from the parched plain to the icy 
mountain,* and cranberries and bilberries may be found 
one day by a person who, on the preceding, was gather- 
ing shaddocks and mangoes. 

A long and narrow line of pestilential marsh divides 
the two regions; it is nowhere much above twenty 
miles in breadth, often a good deal narrower, and in 
some few places it almost disappears ; but for more than 
seven months in the year, from the beginning of April to 
the middle of November, it constitutes a barrier which is 
not to be passed without risk of death. This region is 
called the Tarai, or Taryani. Bishop HebeT, who tra- 
versed it late in November, was powerfully struck with 
its gloomy appearance as seen at a distance in the plains 
of Hindustan : it was, he says, " so black and level that 
it might seem to have been drawn with ink and a ruler." 
It is in fact a dismal country, overrun with jungle and 
giant grass, from six to ten feet in height, through which 
the traveller pushes his way, according to Heber, like 
Gulliver in the Brobdignagian corn-field. A large por- 
tion is covered with a rank poisonous-looking plant, re- 
sembling the deadly-nightshade. In some places are 
immense pipala trees, casting a dreary shade, and 
choked up with the " vile underwood" which is tra- 
versed by narrow boggy pathways. This " vale of 
death" is usually enveloped in a dank, hot, milk -look- 
ing vapour, which adds to the gloom ; there is no venti- 
lation, and, from the combined effects of heat and moist- 
ure, the vegetation, according to Hodgson, the British 
resident in Nepal, is " of so extravagantly rife an in- 
crease, that, in Oriental phrase, you may almost see and 
hear it grow." 

In addition to the pestilential climate of this horrible 
region, very large tigers and even considerable numbers 
of lions dwell within its recesses. Lions were long sup- 
posed to be unknown in India, but, within these few 
years, our extended acquaintance with all parts of that 
country has shown that many are found in the north- 
western territories. In Hodgson's account of the Mam- 
malia of Nepal he has not included the lion among the 
natives <3f the Tarai, but it is often found in its western 
portion, at the foot of the mountains of Kemaoon. By 
travellers in the Tarai, who follow the beaten paths in the 
day-time, little danger is to be apprehended from wild 
beasts. Tigers in such cases generally keep themselves 
close m cover, and the European sportsman, who risks, 
his life at all seasons, with the hope of rousing the royal 
brute in his lair, generally finds it a difficult matter to 
start him. But they are found very troublesome to the 
people of the villages bordering on the Tarai, who, having 
no elephants, are deficient in means of attacking them 
with safety. These people are however bold enough to 
do so at all risks, and when a tiger has established him- 
self near a village, the whole population readily turns out 
with pikes, swords, and matchlocks, to attack the formi- 
dable creature. From the superiority of their numbers 
they usually contrive to destroy him ; but fighting on 
foot, and obliged to resort to entering and beating the 
jungle as the only means of rousing the animal, it rarely 
happens that a tiger^hunt terminates without the loss of 

Digitized by 




[March 10, 

one or two lives. * A reward of four rupees is given by 
the Government for every tiger's head brought in, and 
the report of a Hon or tiger being in the neighbourhood 
frequently brings in a sportsman of the military or civil 
service, who, if a good shot, seldom fails, from his ele- 
phant, to kill the animal with perfect safety to himself. 

Besides the tiger, Mr. Hodgson enumerates many other 
denizens of this pestiferous, valley. *' It is worthy of re- 
mark," he says, " that in this pesthouse, from which all 
mankind flee during eight months of every twelve, con- 
stantly reside and are bred some of the mightiest quad- 
rupeds in the world. The royal tiger, the panther, the 
leopard, the elephant, the arna or wild buffalo, the rhino- 
ceros, and stags of the noblest growth, abound ; and, 
what to our fancies is less singular, the same malarious 
region cherishes boa constrictors of the largest size, and 
other huge creatures of their kind." This statement of 
the constant residence of animals is at variance with what 
was ascertained by Bishop Heber, who says " it is a lite- 
ral ' belt of death' which even the natives tremble to go 
near, and which, during the rains more particularly, the 
monkeys themselves are said to abandon." In a subse- 
quent passage, he says, " I asked Mr. Boulderson (the 
collector of the district) if it were true that the monkeys 
forsook these woods during the unwholesome months. 
He answered " that not the monkeys only, but every thing 
which had the breath of life instinctively deserts them 
from the beginning of April to October. The tigers go 
up to the hills, the antelopes and wild hogs make incur- 
sions into the cultivated plain, and those persons, such 
as Dak-bearers,* or military officers who are obliged to 
traverse the forest in the intervening months, agree that 
not so much as a bird can be heard or seen in the fright- 
ful solitude." Mr. Hodgson remarks on the extravagance 
of the supposition that all the elephants, rhinoceroses, 
&c, should quit the forests all together ; but the fact is 
that Heber spoke only of the portion of the Tarai border- 
ing on Kemaoon, which he nimself crossed ; this part 
is more deadly than that at the foot of the Nepal hills, 
with which Mr. Hodgson was acquainted, and is distant 
three hundred miles from it. Mr. Hodgson admits that 
tame animals of the very lands which flourish in the 
Tarai, if brought there in the unhealthy season, take the 
malaria and die. 

The villages in the vicinity of the Tarai are wretched 
places, low, damp, ill ventilated, and dirty : the people 
are ugly and miserable ; they have large heads, and very 
prominent ears, flat noses, tumid bellies, slender limbs, 
and sallow complexions; their only garment is a blanket 
of black wool. Dry and elevated dwellings, for which 
materials are plenty in the neighbourhood, with more 
abundant clothing, would go far to secure them better 
health and a more comfortable existence ; but the annual 
fever to which they are liable seems to destroy the energy 
required for such undertakings, though it does not pre- 
vent the deadly feuds which are but too common among 
the armed population of Northern India. These people 
are more liable to the malaria fever, and they suffer more 
from its influence than Europeans do ; no doubt- in conse- 
quence of their lower habits of living. Their pulse is 
always feeble, and on the first attack of disease they sink 
mt once into despondency. To this must be added their 
carelessness. In this respect all Indians are like children ; 
and a European who takes an escort with him is often 
obliged to be on the alert to prevent his guards from 
sleeping on the ground in the open air, in situations where 
a night's exposure is almost certain death. Tents and 
raised bedsteads, warm clothing, good living, port wine, 
&c., are usually found sufficient safeguards; the mus- 
quito curtain is also of great utility, and is believed in 
I ndia to be impenetrable to maiana. 

The Tarai is not wholly useless to the people who dwell 
upon its borders. Every year, as soon as the malaria 
* Letter-carriers. 

begins to diminish, the herdsmen set fire to the thick 
jungle, which clears the forest, and admits a free circu- 
lation of air : this process contributes as much as the 
change of weather to the comparative healthiness of the 
country at that season. The fire is occasionally dange- 
rous to those who traverse the forest at this time, and 
travellers have suffered from it ; but the general effect 
is very agreeable, and when the young grass is sprung 
up, and the scorched trees have resumed their leaves, a 
journey across some parts of the Tarai is picturesque 
and pleasant. Thousands of cows and buffaloes are tlien 
depastured upon the luxuriant herbage, which springs 
up so rapidly that in many places it is impossible to keep 
cattle upon it above two months : the luxuriant vegeta- 
tion soon restores to these temporary pastures the fea- 
tures of the surrounding wilderness. At the same time 
the people of the hills come down to cultivate some of 
the drier spots of the forest with wheat and barley ; this 
they reap early in April, and carry back to their own 
mountains, where they arrive in time to gather in their 
own later crops, which they had sown before their de- 
parture for the plains. 

It would appear that the Tarai is not utterly irreclaim- 
able, but that much may be done to reduce its insalu- 
brity. On the eastern side it is certainly better under 
the Nepalese government than it was when under the do- 
minion of petty rajas, whose mutual jealousy prevented 
improvement : much has been reclaimed, large tracts are 
under cultivation, and a considerable quantity of corn is 
exported. At the termination of the war, in 1815, the 
British government retained possession of the Tarai ; but 
it was found impracticable to maintain any authority 
there for one halt the year, in consequence of the malig- 
nant climate, and the whole tract was given up ; one 
portion to the Nepalese, and the rest to the king of Oude, 
in liquidation of the sum of two crores of rupees*, bor- 
rowed of him during the war. The western part of the 
forest is worse than it was thirty-five years ago. At that 
time it was gradually being reclaimed, every year the 
herdsmen were advancing deeper and deeper into its re- 
cesses, and sportsmen pitched their tents for days together 
in places where a single night's rest would now assuredly 
bring on a dangerous fever. Ruderpoor, where the deaths 
are now so numerous that an establishment is with great 
difficulty kept up there, was then a populous and thriving 
town. Its deterioration rose from the depopulation of the 
country by Meer Khan, who laid waste the whole tract 
in 1805. This blow it has never recovered ; and the 
mildness of the present Government has taken away a 
powerful motive for emigrating to such unwholesome 
countries ; the poor native no longer finds it expedient to 
fly from his home to places where the oppressor is afraid 
to follow, but remains where he may best enjoy life, and 
cultivate his little patrimony in peace. 


When we place a vessel of water on the fire, the sub- 
stance of the vessel acts as a conductor by which the 
heat given oft* by the fire enters into the water and com- 
bines with it. What is the nature of this combination 
we know not : it has been supposed that the heat forms 
a kind of atmosphere round each particle of water, by 
which the particles are removed rather farther apart 
than they were before. Whether thiB be the case or not, 
it is quite plain that the particles of water do become 
more distant one from another as more heat is added, for 
if we take 22 pints of water, at a temperature of 32°, and 
heat it up to the boiling temperature, 212°, we shall find 
that it will have become 23 pints, on account of the ex- 
pansion occasioned by the entrance of heat. 

The lowest temperature at which water will iemain 
liquid, under ordinary circumstances, is 32° Fahi., and 
* Nearly two millions sterling. 

Digitized by 





the highest is 212°. It is supposed that below a tempe- 
rature of 32°, the quantity of heat between the particles 
of water is so small that they are enabled to exert a na- 
tural tendency to adhere together,* by certain surfaces or 
sides in preference to others, by which they become rigid 
and fixed in the crystalline form of ice. The extinction 
of the liquid form at a temperature higher than 212° is 
however due to a very different cause : — heat is of a re- 
pulsive nature, by which is meant that any portion of 
heat repels those portions which surround it : now when 
water is heated to 212° the quantity of heat mixed or 
combined with it is so great, that the liquid particles can 
no longer retain their position with regard to one ano- 
ther, but expand in the form of steam, which we may 
consider to be particles of water surrounded by large 
atmospheres of heat. So extensive is this enlargement 
that a cubic inch of water becomes very nearly a cubic 
foot of steam. 

The temperature of 212° is constant for these effects 
only when the surrounding atmosphere is constant. The 
barometer proves that the atmosphere presses on all 
bodies at the earth's surface with a force of about 14 
pounds on every square inch of the surface of such 
bodies ; and as the water in a vessel is exposed to the air, 
it is, like other bodies, exposed to this pressure, and the 
tendency of this pressure is to retard the formation of 
steam at the surface of the heated liquid. There is always 
a considerable amount of steam in the atmosphere, and 
as steam and all other vapours resemble gases in the pro- 
perty of repelling vapours or gases of their own kind, 
the steam already existing in the atmosphere resists the 
formation and ascent of more steam from the surface of 
the water. When however the water attains a tempera- 
ture of 212°, the force which the steam possesses over- 
comes the resistance of the steam existing in the atmo- 
sphere, and new steam is formed as fast as new portions 
of heat enter the water. It is for this reason that water 
can never become hotter after it once boils : any addi- 
tional heat imparted to the water does not remain in it, 
but goes instantly to the formation of new portions of 
Bteam, which escape from the surface. 

When water is boiling, the steam which ascends 
from it exerts a greater a force than that which the 
atmosphere exerts. We may understand this by re 
ferring to a common saucepan partly filled with water 
and covered by a lid which fits air and water-tight. The 
air, we know, is pressing on the top of the cover with a 
force of 14 pounds on a square inch : if now the sauce- 
pan be placed on the fire, steam will gradually rise from 
the water and fill the upper part of the vessel : as the 
water becomes hotter more steam ascends, but as the lat- 
ter cannot escape, it must mingle with that already formed, 
by which its density is increased ; at last, when the boil- 
ing temperature is attained, the steam has become so 
much condensed, and its elastic force so much increased, 
that if the lid be not removed the vessel will burst. 
The tremulous motion which we frequently see in the 
lid of a saucepan or tea-kettle, when the water is boil- 
ing and the lid is not quite closed, is occasioned by the 
energy with which the confined steam tends to escape. 
The whole principle of the earlier steam-engines depended 
upon the single fact, that one side of a piston was pressed 
by the external atmosphere, and the other side was pressed 
by steam above the boiliug temperature : the latter being 
the stronger pressure of the two, the piston was forced 
to move outward, and could not return until the steam 
was condensed, and thus left the external air to press 

If then the atmosphere determines at what tempera- 
ture water will boil, it may be asked, what would occur 
if there were no atmosphere ? This has been answered 
by a pleasing experiment with the air-pump, — an instru- 
ment which enables us to procure a space almost entirely 
devoid of air : in this space water has been found to boil 

at a temperature of about 80°, which is not nearly so 
high as summer temperature in some parts of the world, 
— in. feet, were it not for the pressure of the atmosphere, 
the water of lakes, &c., near the tropics would frequently 
boil : there is neither air nor steam to resist the formation 
of steam from the water in the air-pump, so that the 
bursting or elastic pressure of the newly formed steam is 
not required to be so great as when steam already exista 
over the surface of the water. It is desirable here to 
state, that the resistance to the formation of steam was 
formerly referred to the air itself, but it is now supposed 
to be due to the steam already existing in the air. 

It will naturally be supposed, as water influenced by 
the atmosphere does not boil until it has attained 212°, 
and that it will boil at about 80° in a vacuum, — that it 
will boil at intermediate temperatures in air more or less 
rarefied : — such is the feet. When the air is partially 
rarefied by the air-pump, water will boil in it at a tem- 
perature between 80° and 212°, according to the degree 
of rarefaction. As we ascend from the surface of the 
earth, the air becomes less dense, because there is a less 
quantity of air pressing on it from above ; and as its 
density and pressure decrease in the same degree, it fol 
lows that water and other bodies are less pressed by the 
air in higher than in lower regions, so that water will 
boil at a lower temperature than 212°. Thus, at Mexico, 
which is 7000 feet above the level of the sea, water will 
boil at a temperature of 200°; and at the summit of 
Mont Blanc (about 15,000 feet) at 184°; simply because 
the air is more rarefied than at a lower level : again, at 
the bottom of deep mines, the boiling temperature is 
rather more than 212°, on account of the increase in the 
density of the air. 

Such then being the nature of boiling, we will shortly 
consider the effect of boiling on our food ; but first it 
will be convenient to take a rapid view of the chemical 
nature of animal and vegetable diet. 

All the articles of our food are derived from the animal 
and vegetable kingdoms, and it is an extraordinary feet 
that the ultimate elements of all these may be reduced to 
four, viz., carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen. 
Here then we have indeed a brief alphabet for so com- 
prehensive a history as is presented to us by the organic 
creation ; but it is nevertheless true, and the reason of 
the infinite variety in animal and vegetable substances is 
to be found in the feet that the above elements, two or 
more, combine in different proportions, or are arranged 
among themselves in different modes. Such substances 
may be comprised in four classes, as follows : — 

1. Substances composed of carbon, hydrogen, and 
oxygen, — the two latter being in the proportion to form 
water. These are sometimes called hydrates of carbon : 
— gum, sugar, starch, and woody fibre, are examples. 
2. Substances composed of the same elements as last- 
mentioned, but compared with which the hydrogen is in 
excess: fets, oils, resins, and other very combustible 
bodies are examples. 3. Bodies in which the oxygen is 
in excess, such as the greater number of vegetable acids. 
4. Substances composed of carbon, oxygen, hydrogen, 
and nitrogen: this class includes many animal and a 
few vegetable substances ; as examples we may instance 
albumen, of which the white of an egg is a good speci- 
men ; gluten ;* and gelatine, of which isinglass, which 
consists of the dried sounds or air-bladders of the stur- 
geon, is a specimen. 

We have said that carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and 
nitrogen are the ultimate elements of organic bodies: 
this term reauires some explanation. When a substance 
composed of two compound bodies is presented to the 
chemist for analysis, and he states the elements existing 
in such substance, he names certain bodies which are 
not susceptible of further decomposition, or the ultimate 

* In a subsequent article on Bread and Baking we shall explain 
the meaning and properties of gluten. 

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[March 10, 1838. 

elements of the body ; but if he merely separate the 
boay into the two compound substances which com- 

Ci it, he thus arrives at the proximate elements of the 
y. Chalk, for example, is composed of carbonic acid 
and lime, which are its proximate elements ; but if we 
separate the carbonic acid into carbon and oxygen, and 
the lime into calcium and oxygen, of which it is formed, 
we obtain the ultimate elements of the piece of chalk, 
viz., calcium, oxygen, and carbon. 

The proximate principles of animals which are pre- 
sented to us in the form of food may all be reduced to 
three, viz., fat, gelatine, and albumen. These are modi- 
fied in different parts of the animal, according to circum- 
stances ; and the manner in which boiling extracts these 
principles from meat cannot perhaps be better shown 
than in the preparation of mutton-broth ; we will therefore 
consider the chemical processes which take place. 

Neglecting the herbs, vegetables, &c, which are placed 
with the meat in the water to be boiled, and are to 
heighten its flavour, we select the only two articles which 
are really necessary in broth-making, viz., the " scrag- 
end of a neck of mutton" and clean cold water contained 
in a saucepan, the quantity of water being just sufficient 
to cover the meat : the scrag is chosen on account of its 
leanness, as fat broth is never very desirable. The incut 
being introduced, we must consider its several parts : they 
are bone, flesh, fat, skin, tendon, ligament, and membrane. 

Bone contains several matters, such as cartilage, gela- 
tine, and an earthy substance consisting principally of 
phosphate of lime : cartilage is commonly called gristle ; 
gelatine is a highly nutritious substance, forming, indeed, 
the leading ingredient in calves'-feet jelly : the phos- 
phate of lime is that which gives solidity to the bone, but 
which when separated from it is obtained in the form of 
a powder ; this is insoluble in water, while the cartilage 
and gelatine dissolve by boiling. 

Flesh is nothing more than the meat or muscle of an ani- 
mal : if we eat a beef-steak, we eat a portion of the muscle 
of the ox. It is generally of a red colour, but if washed 
repeatedly in cold and afterwards in hot water, it becomes 
nearly white, in which state .it is called fibrin^ and most 
of the nutriment is gone. If the water in which the meat 
hat' been washed were boiled for some time, strained, 
ana boiled again, it will be found, on cooling, in the state 
of jelly ; it will in fact be gelatine, which we have said is 
one of the proximate elements of bone: the object of 
straining i 8 to separate the albumen, wllich sets or solidi- 
fies by boiling. This latter substance, wnich is almost 
the same as white of egg, exists largely in the blood of 
all animals. The gelatine from the meat contains another 
principle and a highly important one : — this is ozma- 
zome, which is the savoury principle of animal food, 
and the source of its odour and taste, and is also nutri- 
tious : it may be obtained in a separate state, when it 
appears as a thick liquid, like syrup, but does not gela- 
tinize nor coagulate like gelatine and albumen. From 
what has been said, it will be seen how improper it is to 
wash meat previous to cooking it : — the colour is con- 
sidered to be improved, but much nutriment is thrown 
away in the washings. Fibrin may be partly converted 
into gelatine by boiling, and thus be fit for food. 

The fat of animal substance is too well known to need 
much remark : it is remarkable as containing no nitrogen, 
and is very similar to animal and vegetable oils. 

The remaining proximate principles of meat we may 
notice under one head. The muscles terminate in that 
silver}- white substance called tendon, which is nothing 
more than gelatine in a compact state : it i& soluble by 
long boiling. The bones of animals are connected at the ' 

joints by ligament, which is a strong elastic substance 
consisting, like tendon, of soluble 'gelatine. Skin and 
membranes also give much gelatine by long boiling : in- 
deed this substance is the leading ingredient in almost 
all animal food, and is commonly called jelly. 

We see then that the important parts of" an animal, 
considered with reference to food, are gelatine, albumen, 
fat, and ozmazome. When therefore we boil a piece of 
meat, as in the process of making broth, the fat is dis- 
solved and separated, and floats upon the surface of the 
water, from which it may be skimmed off, or, if allowed 
to cool, it becomes a white solid. The gelatine from the 
different substances, muscle, tendon, &c, is dissolved, and 
if the quantity be sufficient, the broth will form a jelly 
when cold. The insoluble fibrous residue, or the boiled 
meat, is little more than fibrin, and contains but little 

Thus it will be understood that making broth is nothiug 
more than obtaining certain nutritious substances existing 
in meat, and transferring them into the water in which 
they are soluble. It is usual, in making broth, to cut the 
meat into small pieces, so that the solvent power of the 
water may act more perfectly upon it. By long boiling, 
the muscular fibres separate, and the meat loses its nutri- 
trious qualities, which the water has acquired to a great 
extent :— a small portion of the fibrin and of the albumen 
is dissolved; the tendons, ligaments, membranes, and 
skin dissolve partially ; the bones lose their cartilage and 
much of their gelatine ; the albumen and blood solidify 
and constitute the skum which floats on the surface ; and 
the ozmazome, which dissolves easily, and is volatile at 
a high temperature, constitutes in great measure the 
savoury steam of the kitchen, which is obtained at the 
expense of the provision. Simmering, or stewing, is an 
excellent mode of cooking meat : the temperature neces- 
sary to this process is about 150°, whereby the albumen, 
or fibrin, of the meat remains soft, and the soluble matters 
are extracted and form good broth, the residual meat 
is fit to be eaten, and the ozmazome, or flavour, is not 
driven off to so great an extent. 

By boiling meat within certain limits, it becomes more 
firm and digestible, loses its red colour, and acquires a 
savoury taste and smell : a change in the state of com- 
bination ensues, whereby nutritious qualities are developed 
from substances which were devoid of that important pro- 
perty before, and many other changes are undergone. 
But if the boiling be continued for too long a time, the 
meat becomes indigestible, and loses much of its taste 
and smell an d nutritive qualities. I f the boiling be violent, 
the muscular portions on the outside of the meat lose their 
gelatine, and become tough and fibrinous, while the in- 
side is scarcely affected. As much of the nutritive juices 
of meat escapes into the water in the act of boiling, the 
meat should not be cut into small pieces, except for the 
purpose of making broth or soup : in other words, if the 
the nutriment is required to be kept in the meat, a large 
joint is better than a small one, out if the water is to 
contain the nutriment, then it is better that the meat 
should be in small pieces. 

Thus then we see what an important service boiling- 
water renders to us in preparing the flesh of animals 
for food. A similar train of benefits, though per- 
haps in a smaller degree, are derived in the prepara- 
tion of vegetable diet : but we need not now enter into 
these : enough has been said to show that the solvent 
powers of boiling-water are as useful to man as are those 
properties of water by which it is enabled to act as a 
moving power to our machinery, and as a fluid surface 
on which our ships can float. 

The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of Ueeful Knowledge Is at 59. Unooln'i Inn Field*. 
Printed by William Clowki and Sows, Stanford Street* 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 17, 1838 


[Marchc aux Fruits, Quai de la Tourncllc, Paris.] 

The inhabitants of Paris would appear to be better 
situated for obtaining fruit in a fresh state than those of 
London. There are, first, the market-gardeners, who, 
however, do not cultivate on so extensive a scale as those 
in the neighbourhood of London ; and then there are the 
small peasant proprietors, who support themselves on the 
produce of their own soil, exchanging the surplus for 
groceries, &c. This class will take the most trifling ar- 
ticles to market, and are always determined to bring back 
something in exchange. Many of them occupy little 
sore than half an acre, and yet they will make this 
small patch produce walnuts, plums, cherries, apples, 
grapes, currants, &c. Not possessing a sufficient quan- 
tity of land to enable them to have a proper rotation of 
grain crops, they do not raise enough for family consump- 
tion, and though they might subsist with a very small 
outlay on colonial produce, yet the necessity of procuring 
bread sends them into the market with all the fruit, 
vegetables, poultry, eggs, &c, which they can spare by 
rigid economy; for the French peasant would rather 
starve than give up his property in land. Covent-Garden 
market, on the other hand, is indebted for its supplies 
to a comparatively small number of commercial gardeners, 
whose operations are conducted on an extensive scale. In 
London, therefore, the supply of fruit must be distri- 
^ You VII. 

buted chiefly by intermediate dealers, while in Paris the 
opportunities of obtaining it fresh from the producer are 
much more numerous. Some of the London market- 
gardeners hold above 100 acres, while the largest garden 
in the neighbourhood of Paris does not exceed sixty acres, 
and the proprietor of this employs some portion of it in 
the production of mangel-wurzel for milch cows. The 
large space of ground covered by nursery gardens at 
Vitry, near Paris, comprises nearly 4000 acres (Loudon) ; 
but the number of nurserymen is 200 (Forbes). 

Mr. Loudon ('Encyclopaedia of Gardening') says that 
" the great mass of operative gardeners in France, both 
as masters and labourers, are incomparably more ig- 
norant, both of gardening as a science, and of know- 
ledge in general, than the gardeners of this country. " 
Few of them are regularly apprenticed, and there is lit- 
tle or no demand for good master-gardeners. The as- 
sistant-gardeners in the neighbourhood of Paris are said 
by Mr. Loudon to be poorly paid, and are worked much 
harder than the same class in England. In the time of 
Louis XIV. the work of the royal gardens was all done 
in the night time, and finished by six or seven in the 
morning, as this vain monarch and his courtiers probably 
saw nothing to interest them in the labours of the garden. 
The hardy fruits of France exceed those of Britain, but 


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tMAJMJB 11, 

this is dependent upon climate, and it is tlie opinion of 
horticultural tourists, likely to be free from prejudice, that 
in no country is gardening more extensively cultivated, or 
with so much ardour, as in England at the present time. 
This is a gratifying state of the national taste, in promot- 
ing which, some of our largest manufacturing towns have 
had an important share. The French gardener has more 
difficulties to contend with than might be supposed. The 
winters are sometimes excessively cold, and in summer 
the heat and drought are occasionally injurious to him. 
He is not stimulated to the same extent as in England 
by the patronage of the wealthy, and a couple of guineas 
per lb. for cherries, five or six shillings for a single peach, 
and for other fruit on its first appearance in proportion, 
are prices which are never heard of in France, where they 
are more content to enjoy each description of fruit in its 
own season. If it were not for the indirect good pro- 
ceeding from this lavish 'expenditure, the motive for 
which often arises from a spirit of exclusiveness that has 
few redeeming qualities to recommend it, such extrava- 
gance would be more commonly regarded with less favour. 
In France, a greenhouse is not considered so necessary 
an appendage to a gentleman's residence as in England ; 
but forced productions are more in demand than they 
were ten years ago. The cultivation of the pine-apple 
was only introduced at Versailles so recently as during 
the reign of Charles X. 

In the neighbourhood of Paris, as in that of London, 
certain places have obtained a prescriptive claim for the 
excellence of the fruit or vegetables which they produce. 
Thus around London, Battersea is celebrated for cab- 
bages and cauliflowers ; Mortlake, for asparagus ; Charl- 
ton and Plumstead, for peas ; Twickenham, for straw- 
berries; Pershore, for currants; Maidstone, for filberts 
and cherries, &c. Rhubarb, for tarts, is 6cnt by waggon - 
loads to the metropolis from a considerable distance. In 
the vicinity of Paris, there is Montmorency, famous for 
its cherries ; Montreuil, for peaches ; Argenteuil, for figs ; 
Fontenay-aux-Rosea, for strawberries ; and, more distant 
from the capital, Fontainebleau, for its chasselas grapes, 
remarkable for their skin and fine flavour. Mr. Forbes, 
the head gardener at Woburn Abbey, who has lately 
published observations made during a horticultural tour 
which he undertook at the expense of the Duke of 
Bedford, in the course of which he visited France, makes 
the following comparison of the peaches produced at 
Montreuil with those grown in England : — " On my ap- 
proach to Montreuil I was surprised at the extent of 
white walls covered with peach-trees and grape- vines. 1 ' 
These walls if extended would reach several miles. Mr. 
Forbes says : " The peaches on the walls in this country 
(England) are much larger than any in France and Bel- 
gium, although the soil and climate in these countries 
are more congenial to the growth of this tree and matu- 
rity of its fruit than our more northern atmosphere." 
It would be with regard to flavour that we should expect 
the fruits of France to excel our own, but Mr. Forbes 
merely speaks of the comparative size. These peaches 
are sold at from one to four sous each. Mr. Loudon how- 
ever does not speak so highly as might be expected of 
the fruit grown in France, compared with similar de- 
scriptions produced in England. In an account of a 
horticultural tour in France made a few years ago, which 
he published in the ' Gardener's Magazine,' vol. vii., he 
has given his opinion as follows : — Under the head 
" Fruits for tarts and pickling," he merely remarks — 
" On a par with British markets." He vi«ited the Marche' 
des Innocens on the 13th September, and the following 
record occurs in his diary : " Abundance of apples, 
chiefly Colvilles ; and of pears, chiefly bon Chretiens and 
bergamots ; rock and canteloup melons ; chasselas 
grapes ; peaches, figs, and plums ; pear-shaped sorbs 
sold at about a sous each ; and a great quantity of very 
excellent strawberries. The last article is the only one 

in which this market txctlled that of Qovent Garden ; Ja 
all the other fruits it was much inferior." In his ' En- 
cyclopaedia of Gardening ' Mr. Loudon has again drawn 
attention to the comparative merits of the fruit and vege- 
tables brought to the markets of PariB and London. Al- 
luding to the former, he says : " The quantity and variety 
of fruits are greatly inferior, and also the dryness and 
flavour of potatoes, and the succulency of turnips, cab- 
bages, and the other common culinary vegetables ; but 
the Paris markets approach to equality with those of 
London in mushrooms, salads, and aromatic herbs during 
summer ; and far surpass them in those articles during 
winter." In the produce of the vine England has no 
pretensions to vie with France. The grapes used for 
making wine are not those which are preferred at the 
dessert ; just as we make a distinction between apples 
for the kitchen, for the cider-press, and the dessert. The 
finest chasselas grapes may be bought at about Ad. per 
lb. Grapes for the table are grown to a considerable ex- 
tent in the market and flower gardens around Paris. 

Fruit and vegetables, being articles intended for im- 
mediate consumption, are disposed of with the most ad- 
vantage to the consumer, and the least cost to the pro- 
ducer, in a public market-place. Paris has the benefit 
of several large markets ; while London, containing twice 
the population, receives it supplies of garden produce in 
one market, and then through a much smaller number of 
persons than Paris. Whatever therefore may be the re- 
spective qualities of the fruit and vegetables of the two 
countries, the inhabitants of Paris can more readily deal 
with the producer than those of London, to many of 
whom a visit to Co vent Garden would be a journey of no 
trifling distance. Mr. Forbes visited the Paris vegetable 
and fruit market on the *?th of October. He says : " The 
display of pears, grapes, and walnuts, was very fine ; 
there were also a number of peaches, but these were 
rather of an inferior site to those grown on the open walls 
in England. The fruit-market was really so crowded 
with baskets of pears and with women, that it was with 
much difficulty I could pass through it. There was an 
abundant supply of vegetables." 

The market represented in the cut is used solely for the 
sale of fruit, which is chiefly brought in boats by the 
rivers Seine and Marne. Grapes and other descriptions 
of fruit may here be bought at a much lower rate than at 
the fruit shops. A west view of Notre Dame is given on 
the right. The bridge here only crosses one arm of the 
Seine, the river here dividing into two channels, and 
forming the Isle du Palais, on which stands the cathedral 
of Notre Dame. 


[Continued from No. 380.] 

Having in two former numbers concentrated the re- 
marks of Erasmus on the state of our universities, we 
shall now select a few of his observations on what he saw 
when in England, with an occasional notice from the let- 
ters of his correspondents. In November, 151 1, a learned 
foreigner then in London writes thus to Erasmus in his 
absence : — " Jupiter is in a towering passion with us ; it 
rains day and night, and seldom holds up. Yet this 
deluge in miniature is not deep enough to drown the 
plague. But if the magistrates do not furnish some 
antidote, famine will complete our disease ; and famine 
is only a lingering plague. Then, again, the heretics — 
confound them ! — have raised the price of logs and fag- 
gots ; and the demand for victims has only increased the 
supply. The brother of a friend of mine, more like a 
post than a man, has been founding a sect, (please the 
gods!) and is enlisting and humbugging disciples. " 
This friend, still in England, writes to him again in the 
summer of 1513: — " You were in such a hurry to get 
beyond sea, that I could not ask you to delay you* d*» 

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parture, and give me your company for even two days. 
No one can be surprised that your hunting expedition 
turned out so ill: natural woods are not the hunting- 
grounds for a man of your kidney. But you will say 
that you have met with no more than your deserts. It 
was such a metamorphose as Ovid never thought of, to 
transform books into horses ; but now that you are 
without a horse, I must beg your acceptance of my old 
grey ; you know he was always a favourite with me.'* 
There was a general complaint among learned foreigners 
of the difficulty of subsisting in England. On this sub- 
ject the same correspondent says— " In some respects it 
would not be unpleasant to me to establish my quarters 
in the house of some merchant ; but then I am told that 
that would not be genteel ; besides, I could not well en- 
dure the dirtv habits of that class, of which I have had 
more th* 
on any i 
poverty i 
this sam 
tions the 
merit. 1 
want is t 
good fire 
and give 
his dread 
hates as 

In March, 1513, we find him in London again, with 
the thermometer of his philosophy a little higher than the 
year before. He expresses himself not dissatisfied with 
Britain, nor disappointed as to patrons. He has many 
friends— no «very-day kindness from several bishops. 
The archbishop of Canterbury (Warham) is so fond of 
him, that were he his brother or father he could not be 
more so ; from him he had a pension, liberal enough for 
his occasions, without church preferment ; add to this, 
no little attention from the nobility in general ; " and I 
might have more, were I ever so little of a courtier. But 
the impending war is giving a check to the genius of 
this island. The dearness of everything increases daily ; 
and liberality decreases in proportion. Men must be 
more sparing in their gifts when they are tithed so often. 
Of late, from the scarcity of wine, and the bad quality of 
the beer, I am almost dead with the gout. An island is 
at best a banishment ; and now it is turned into a prison : 
there is scarcely an outlet for the escape even of letters. 
I see great movements taking place, the issues of which 
no one can predict. I wish God in his mercy would 
allay this storm in the Christian world. I often wonder 
what should drive even men, to say. nothing about 
Christians, to the madness of rushing to mutual destruc- 
tion with such zeal, at such expense, at the risk of per- 
sonal suffering. For what are we doing but making war 
thoughout life? No brutes but savage ones make war; 
and even they fight not with their own kind, but with 
brutes of a different species, and with such arms as 
Nature furnishes ; not like us, with machines of diabo- 
lical construction, nor for fanciful causes, but either in 
defence of their voung, or for food. Most of our wars 
originate either in ambition, or anger, or lust, or some 
inch distemper : brutes are not, like us, marshalled in 
bawled thousands for mutual destruction." 

In July, 1514, he returned to the Continent. He de- 
scribes his passage as favourable as to weather, but 
attended with anxiety to himself. " The thieves of 
sailors sent my baggage, containing my manuscripts, on 
board a wrong vessel, on purpose to steal from it it there 
was anything worth stealing, and if not, to extort a fee, 
and sell me my own property. While I gave up the re- 
searches and nightly watchings of so many years as lost, 
frobably no parent ever felt deeper grief for the loss of 

children. In other respects these fellows so behave to 
foreigners, that it were better to fall into the hands of the 
Turks than into theirs." He wonders that the English 
government should tolerate the dregs of mankind in 
their annoyance of strangers, to the disgrace of the whole 
island. " People will on their return home tell what 
inhuman treatment they have received, and infer the 
character of the nation at large from the conduct of 
these rascals. I know not whether I have told you that 
I have been introduced to his Majesty. He received me 
with kind looks, altogether as if I had been a personal 
friend ; and the bishop of Lincoln told me that I might 
depend on having something done for me. He did not 
tell me what I might venture to expect, and I did not 
throw out any feelers, lest I should appear to be too for- 
ward. The bishop of Durham gave me six angels, and 
without my asking for them ; the archbishop contributed 
the same sum, and Rochester a royal. This was all I 
pocketed. I wished you to know all this, lest it should 
dc suspected that on the plea of this voyage to the Con- 
tinent I had feathered my nest with any considerable 
sum of money." On another occasion he speaks of the 
Britons in general as having such a dislike to labour, and 
mch a love of their ease, as not to be roused from their le- 
thargy, even by prospect of profit through dishonest means. 

In 1515 we find Erasmus again in London. He ex- 
presses his intention of laying his Mecaenases under con- 
tribution, and becoming a candidate for the royal bounty, 
rhe king, he says, has been ill of the plague at Rich- 
mond, but, according to his physician's report, is out of 
danger. The pope's nuncio was in London to mediate a 
peace, but without success. Erasmus thinks that he has 
been more earnest about his own business than the 
nation's. In a subsequent letter of the same year, ad- 
dressed to Leo X., he speaks of Henry's conduct, in laying 
down his arms, as reflecting more honour on the Papal 
authority than even the taking them up at the prompting 
of Julius, because the hope of victory may be a motive 
for any one to begin a war, and is perhaps most flatter- 
ing to those for whom fortune is laying snares. " But 
that so great a king, and he a young man of lofty and 
unbending spirit, exulting in the anticipation of success, 
should all at once renounce ambition, and from bitter 
enmity pass to entire concord, seems more like inspira- 
tion than ordinary prudence." With respect to his own 
c Life of St. Jerome,' which however is not to be found 
in the collection of his works, he says, with his customary 
reference to classical mythology, that the task was of 
such difficulty as to require the labours of more than one 
Hercules. " So far was I from thinking myself equal 
to it, who am so little of a Hercules as to be scarcely a 
man. But the learned exhorted, bishops insisted ; espe- 
cially that Mecsenas of literature and virtue, William 
(Warham), archbishop of Canterbury. Great Britain 
has no man more complete in learning, integrity, and all 
perfections. No person gives more encouragement to' the 
study of the best things; his zeal for religion is beyond 
all praise, especially in such matters as tend to raise the dig- 
nity and promote the enlargement of the Roman see." 

For some time past Erasmus seems to have been in 
high good-humour with England and all mankind. In 
a letter to Colet, from Paris, dated 1616, he writes thus : 
" On my leaving Britain for France, I can hardly tell 
you how variously I was affected; I scarcely know 
whether I was more delighted at the meeting with my 
French friends, from whom I had parted long ago, or 
more sorrowful at having taken leave of my English ones, 
of much more recent acquisition. I can truly assert that 
I have found in London as many friends, as sincere, as 
learned, as sensible, and in all respects as virtuous, as 
in all the rest of the world put together. They are per- 
petually present to my thoughts ; and my only consolation 
in absence is the hope that the time is not far distant whenl 
may be reunited with them, to remain till death do us part.*' 

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[Rhinoceros Ketloa, from the specimen in the South Africau Museum.] 

In the well-known building in Piccadilly, called the 
Egyptian Hall, there has been exhibiting for some time 
a collection called "The South African Museum." In 
the hand-bill circulated respecting it, we are informed 
that it is a " collection of new or little-known Quadru- 
peds, Birds, Reptiles, &c, &c, from the Interior of 
Southern Africa ; together with numerous specimens of 
the arts, manufactures, &c, of the natives ; and about 
four hundred drawings illustrative of the character of 
the country and its productions : also, of the manners, 
costumes, social condition, and religious ceremonies of 
the inhabitants." 

We are further told that " the above collection is the 
property of a Society, which exists in South Africa, under 
the title of ' The Cape of Good Hope Association for 
Exploring Central Africa,' and was formed by the first 
party sent into the interior by that Association, after its 
institution in 1833. It has been sent to England, first 
for exhibition, and then for sale, in the hope that the 
proceeds of the one or the other will materially add to 
the very small fund proceeding from the voluntary con- 
tributions of a few Colonists, and thereby render it prac- 
ticable to despatch, in the course of next year, a second 
party to resume the investigation where the former party 
discontinued it, viz. in lat. 23° 28'. 

" The Society, having no view beyond the advancement 
of knowledge and the benefit of mankind, appeals with 
confidence to the public for that degree of support which 
cannot be expected from a mere handful of colonists, 
however zealous and liberal ; and that they have been 

both the one and the other must be manifest, if it be 
considered that, in the course of a few months, they con- 
tributed the sum of 900/. for the encouragement of 
discovery; a sum which, added to the 300/. which 
was nobly placed at the disposal of the Society by Mr. 
M'Queen, of Glasgow, well known by his writings on 
colonial affairs, has hitherto been sufficient to defray all 

This announcement is calculated to arrest the attention 
of the reader ; and if his curiosity is of a larger kind than 
that which seeks the mere gratification of a show, he will 
doubtless, if not previously aware of the existence of the 
Association, be anxious to know its history and to see its 
museum. For it is unquestionably a great satisfaction to 
all who feel the slightest interest in the welfare of the 
world, to see rising in any of our colonies something of 
that energy of spirit which animates the mother-country. 

Preliminary arrangements having been made, one of 
the most important of which was the circumstance of 
537/. having been subscribed in a few days, a general 
meeting was held in Cape Town, on' the 24th of June, 
1833, the then governor, Sir G. L. Cole, in the chair. 
At this meeting the Association was formed ; but it was 
the following year, 1834, before the expedition, the mem- 
bers of which had all volunteered their services, were 
able to set out. It was placed under the direction of Dr. 
Smith, surgeon to the forces, who ispreparing the journal 
of the expedition for publication, llie expedition having 
returned to Cape Town, a general meeting of the Asso- 
ciation was held on the 19th of May, 1836, Sir John 
Hcrschel in the chair. The Association was intended to 
have been a temporary one ; but at this nwtinsc it was 

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resolved that it " should continue to exist as a permanent 
institution, for the further prosecution of r its original ob- 

The collection contains preserved specimens of three 
species of the rhinoceros, a young hippopotamus, varieties 
of the antelope, hyaena, the felis CaffrOy which is said to 
exhibit " certain fixed peculiarities which unequivocally 
constitute it a distinct species from the domestic cat," a 
large ornithological collection, &c. We shall take an- 
other opportunity of speaking of this interesting collection 
generally ; and therefore confine ourselves at present to a 
notice of the rhinoceros. 

The reader will find a paper on the rhinoceros in No. 
132, vol. iii., of the Penny Magazine. In the South African 
Museum, the three species are — rhinoceros Africanus, or 
the black rhinoceros of the Cape colonists ; rhinoceros 
simus, or the white rhinoceros ; and rhinoceros ketloa, of 
which we give a view. It is thus described in the Cata- 
logue of the Museum :•— 

"As regards natural history, the discovery of this 
animal is probably one of the most important and in- 
teresting results of the expedition. Previous to June, 
1835, this species of rhinoceros was not known — no 
doubt, from its never having approached the confines of 
the colony ; though there is reason to believe that indi- 
vidual specimens occasionally travelled as far south as 
Lattakoo ;. the kind of horns peculiar to it having reached 
the Cape, -and even England, from that quarter. In that 
country, however, the occurrence of this animal must 
have been' rare, as the natives thereabout have no name 
for it-; and when questioned as to the number of species, 
never made mention of a third. This is the very opposite 
to what was experienced among the inhabitants of the 
countries in which it more commonly occurs, who, when 
questioned on the subject, invariably mentioned three by 
name, viz. Ketloa, Boreli, Mohoohoo. 

" Among those which are to be regarded as wanderers, 
the specimen in the present collection may be classed ; it 
having been shot about 180 miles north-east of Lattakoo, 
but considerably south of the country to which the species 
appears more directly to belong. . It was upon that 
occasion that the expedition first became acquainted with the 
name of Ketloa, which was only familiar even there to 
some few persons who had formerly resided more to the 
northward; but on the expedition penetrating to the 
northward of Kurrichaue, every person was found con- 
versant with the riame, and able to direct to situations 
where the animal was to be found. 

" Few made mention of the Ketloa without at the same 
time showing an inclination to observe upon its character; 
and those who had sufficient confidence in the party to 
venture a remark upon a native chief then awfully op- 
pressing that part of the country, spoke of the man and 
the animal as alike to be feared for their ferocity, and 
equally dangerous to the former inhabitants of that 

"In many points the rhinoceros Ketloa bears consi- 
derable resemblance to the rhinoceros Africanus ; yet there 
arc differences sufficiently palpable to enable even persons 
not very conversant in judging of the fine shades of 
distinction between species readily to discover that it is 
distinct ; such as the great length of the second horn, 
the more elongated and slender head, the form of the 
hunch on the shoulder, &c. Besides these differences, 
which are palpable to all, the naturalist is enabled to 
discover various others, the most important of which is 
the difference of dentition. 

u The form of the upper lip led those of the party who 
were acquainted with the rhinoceros Africanus to infer that, 
like it, the present specimen must feed upon underwood ; 
an inference which was completely justified by the state- 
ments of the natives when questioned upon the subject. 
, " As the party advanced northward, the Ketloa became 
more common, though it never occurred in so great 

numbers as either of the other species ; and it was only 
on one occasion that so many as seven were seen to- 
gether, though the occurrence of such a number was by 
no means uncommon in the cases of the other two. 
From its having been considered of importance to ascer- 
tain the relative proportions of the three species, direc- 
tions were given to the hunters to make a daily statement 
of the numbers they had seen of each ; and it was thus 
found that only sixty-eight of the Ketloa were seen in 
the course of the journey, a number far short of that of 
either of the others. Tne interest that the discovery of 
this new species excited, led to the making of minute 
inquiries as to animals of this genus; and the expe- 
dition had sufficient reason to believe, from the replies 
to constant questions, that two other species existed 
farther in the interior, one of which was described as 
being somewhat like the Ketloa, and having two horns, 
the other as differing in many respects, and having only 
one horn. 

" The probability of obtaining both of these, should a 
second party be sent out to make extended researches, 
will, it is to be hoped, be a stimulus to all persons 
zealous for the advancement of natural history to exert 
themselves to the utmost, to enable the Cape Association 
to continue its exertions." 


(A bridged from Dr. lire'* s Philosophy of Manufactures') 

Some circumstances of ancient date, now little known, 
have had a share in determining the locality of particular 
manufactures. Where the soil is too thin to be produc- 
tive to the plough, it is converted into sheep walks, as in 
the north-eastern part of Scotland, and thereby gives 
birth to the woollen trade, first in a handicraft way, and 
afterwards by machinery. The convenience of harbours 
for intercourse with foreign countries, rich in certain raw 
materials, naturally determines their importation and also 
their manufacture, provided the population of the neigh- 
bourhood be numerous, active, and possessed of natural 
resources in fire and water power. Thus the eastern 
counties of Scotland having long carried on a shipping 
trade with the opposite coast of Europe, where flax is 
much cultivated, have been led to import it largely, and 
to work it up on a corresponding scale. On the other 
hand, cotton being imported chiefly from the Wezt In- 
dies and United States into the two great western ports 
of the island, Liverpool and Glasgow, in the neighbour- 
hood of districts abounding in rivers and coal-mines, na- 
turally occasioned the development of the cotton manu- 
factures of Lancashire, Lanarkshire, and Renfrewshire 
What cause excluded them from Bristol ? 

The worsted trade of England has been remarkably de- 
veloped in Leicester, the centre of the district where the 
long-woolled breed of sheep has been reared with greatest 
success. The softer and shorter stapled fleece of the 
sheep reared in the south-western counties of England 
naturally suggested the establishment of the fine woollex- 
cloth manufacture in Gloucestershire, Somersetshire, and 
Wiltshire. The peculiar facilities for steam and water 
power enjoyed by Yorkshire have favoured the rapid 
extension, within a few years, of the same manufacture 
in several parts of that county. As soon, however, as 
machinery becomes generally prevalent in any district, 
and possesses ample resources in motive agents for its 
unlimited application, it will attract to that district r. 
great many manufactures in addition to the indigenous, 
and may, in fact, by the influence of such advantages, 
deprive other districts of their original staple trade. The 
silk-weaving of England sprung up in the cheap end of 
its metropolis, because it had to seek customers for its 
expensive ornamental fabrics among the luxurious popu- 
lation of the court ; and there it continued for a century, 
flourishing and fading in alternate vicissitudes, though 

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[Mawc« 1% 

' progressive on the whole, till it has found in the self-act- 
ing power machinery of the cotton-factory districts an at- 
tractive influence injurious to the monopoly of Spitalfields. 
• The mechanical skill which Leeds long exercised in 
the coarse woollen fahrics has heen latterly directed hy 
some of its intelligent manufacturers to flax-apinning, 
and has given to this branch a remarkably rapid de- 

Sometimes political events or local disturbances turn 
the current of manufactures out of their native beds into 
distant and uhthought-of channels. The inquisitorial 
cruelties of the Duke of Alva, and the revocation of the 
edict of Nantes by Louis XIV., violently transplanted 
from the Netherlands and France a great many thriving 
trades into the other countries of Europe. The bobbin- 
net lace manufacture was the foster-child of Nottingham, 
Loughborough, and some of the villages placed betwixt 
them, where it was growing up into a vigorous manhood, 
till it was frightened from its native home by the frame- 
breakers, who succeeded the Luddites in their riotous 
careeT. Its patronizing capitalists were forced to make 
a tour through the remote provinces of Wales, and the 
south-west of England, on purpose to seek a quiet retire- 
ment, where they might set down their ingenious indus- 
try aloof from lawless ruffians. Thus the lace business 
suddenly emigrated to Tiverton, Barnstaple, Taunton, 
and Chard, places farther beyond London to the south, 
than its birth-place Nottingham was to the north. 

In former times, when the textile manufactures were 
handicraft occupations, they were established, as I have 
said, in reference to the near supply of the raw materials, 
and to streams of pure water for scouring, bleaching, or 
turning a little mill. Since the introduction of machinery 
driven by steam-power, and the extension of inland na- 
vigation for the cheap transport of coals and goods; manu- 
facturers have taken a wider range in selecting their seats, 
and have been guided in this respect as much by the 
convenience of a good mart for home sale and exporta- 
tion, as by any other consideration. From this cause, 
Manchester and Glasgow have attracted them in extra- 
ordinary numbers. There is, however, something ap- 
parently capricious, or at least difficult to account for in 
this business. If cheap fuel, an abundant population, 
and a commodious seaport, be the circumstances most 
favourable to the erection of manufactures, it may be 
asked, why have they not led to their establishment in 
the neighbourhood of Edinburgh, where these three con- 
ditions concur ? Much may be ascribed to the counter- 
vailing influence of a previously organized emporium. 
Thus, with the exception of a few large factories at Aber- 
deen, and one at Stanley, near Perth, the Scotch cotton 
manufacture is almost entirely confined to the Glasgow 
district. The energy of two or three capitalists will 
sometimes determine the rise of a manufacture round 
their residence, though apparently not the most conge- 
nial soil for its growth. To this circumstance is proba- 
bly owing the factory enterprise of Aberdeen, at a dis- 
tance from coals, and the non-factory character of Edin- 
burgh, built on the border of a great coal-field. As 
railways multiply, they will multiply the sites of manu- 
factures, and lead to their establishment in many inland 
districts where the population is redundant in reference to 
rustic occupation, and ready to dispose of its labour at a 
low rate. 

The local fixation of a manufacture is a remarkable 
circumstance. It has been found by the Glasgow peo- 
ple impossible to transfer to themselves, with all the know- 
ledge and opportunities they possess, the peculiar fabrics 
of Manchester ; and vice versa, the Manchester people 
have made many efforts to naturalize the muslin trade of 
Glasgow and Paisley, but never with any advantage, so 
that the warehousemen of the one town continue to get 
their supplies reciprocally from the other. It is not pre- 
tended that the same quality of goods could not be made 

indifferently at either of these emporia, hut it could not 
be made at the same average, cost 

The factory system extends no farther north than Abet* 
deen, in which city it has been applied on a considerable 
scale in several mills, in some to wonted, and in others 
to flax and cotton, by the enterprising spirit of the inha* 
bitants, in a locality favoured by two powerful streams 
and a convenient harbour. In coming southwards, nu* 
merous 'flax-mills occur along the whole line of the 
eastern coast.; at Bervie, Montrose, Brechin, Dundee* 
Arbroath, Cupar, Kirkland, Dysart, Kircaldy, Kinghora, 
Dunfermline, Perth, Blairgowrie; of which nearly forty 
of different magnitudes axe referred to by the Factory 
Commissioners. At Bannockburn and Stirling are a 
few woollen-mills. The Stanley mills, near Perth, and 
the Deanston mills, near Doune, are two great cotton- 
works belonging to Glasgow houses, which were planted 
in these remote localities on account of their supply of 
water-power, and an industrious population. 

The next great factory district is Glasgow, and its de- 
pendent stations at New Lanark, Paisley, the Water of 
Leven, Kilbarchan, Johnstone, Lochwinnoch, Rothesay 
in the Isle of Bute, and Old Kilpatrick in Dumbarton- 
shire, which are almost entirely occupied with cotton fa- 
brics, with the exception of Paisley, partially employed 
in the manufacture of fancy silk goods. To the south of 
the river Forth, the flax-spinning mill of Mr. Craig, at 
Preston Holme, ten miles from Edinburgh, deserves to 
be noticed on account of its salubrious arrangements. 

With the exception of Carlisle and its immediate 
neighbourhood, factories are but thinly spread over the 
four northern counties of England, the total amount be- 
ing only fifty-two, exclusive of Kendal, where there is a 
considerable number occupied chiefly with woollen fabrics. 
In the remarks on the population of the different coun- 
ties of England a general view is given of the nature and 
extent of their respective manufactures. 

Few factories are yet established in Ireland, except at 
Belfast, where several considerable cotton-mills have 
been for many years in activity, and some large flax- 
mills have been recently erected. A few manufactures 
exist in the vicinity of Dublin, particularly in the calico-* 
printing department. 


The clearing out of an old canal in the north of India 
led about four years ago to the discovery of an ancient 
town, buried many feet deep below the surface of the 
earth, probably at a period fully as remote as that at 
which Pompeii and Herculaneum suffered a similar fate. 
The canal was one of those which were constructed some 
centuries ago in the Doab, or country between the Ganges 
and Jumna, in that part of their course where those 
mighty rivers issue from the Snowy Mountains to the 
plains of Hindustan. The object of these canals was to 
supply water to that region, which would have been con- 
demned to barrenness without its aid, but possessing a 
soil capable, with irrigation, of producing cotton, sugar- 
canes, tobacco, oranges, lemons, and many other fruits 
both of tropical and temperate climates. The object 
was fully maintained until about eighty years ago, when 
the breaking up of the Mogul empire led to the aban- 
donment of everything useful in that part of India ; the 
canals were allowed to decay, and until the country fell 
into the hands of the English government nothing was 
done for their restoration. In the progress of the works 
necessary for clearing out and restoring one of these 
canals the ancient town was discovered ; we ought rather 
to say re-discovered, for in the original construction of 
the canal it must have been laid open and seen at least 
by the workmen and superintendents engaged, although 
the usual apathy of Hindus probably prevented its being 
noticed. Its site is about a mile from the town of Behut, 






fifteen miles from Saharunpof e, and one hunched from 
the city of Delhi. It lies between two little rivers named 
Nogaon and Maskarrah, and is now about a mile from 
the former, which has however, like all these mountain 
torrents, much altered its course within a few years. 

The first notice of anything unusual was tne appear- 
ance of a new surface soil when the workmen were clear- 
ing at a considerable depth under the upper surface of 
the earth. The new surface was a black soil, inter- 
mingled with pots, fragments of earthenware, bones, and 
such matters as are generally found about modern Hindu 
villages. The superintendent of the canals of the Doab, 
Lieutenant Cautley, being made acquainted with the cir- 
cumstance, immediately caused a strict examination to 
be made, and communicated the result of his scrutiny, 
with specimens of the matters found, to the Asiatic So- 
ciety of Bengal. The only portion laid open which ap- 
peared to have retained its form was a large square 
foundation, sunk four feet deep into the black soil before- 
mentioned, but not rising above its surface ; the upper 
part of this building was probably cut away at the ori- 
ginal digging of the canal. Immense quaatities of bricks 
were found scattered about for a quarter of a mile above 
and below this foundation, as though they had been 
thrown down from masses of buildings ; they were gene- 
rally soft and badly burned ; the buildings constructed 
with them were probably of an inferior kind to the deep 
foundation described, which will account for their more 
complete demolition. There were also many larger 
bricks of a curved form, fitted to line wells, which are 
very numerous in this part of the country ; all these cir- 
cular bricks were hard and well burned. Many of the 
earthen pots were entire, and several of them of a long 
oval shape, very similar to those now used by natives of 
India in making indigo. The bone3 were in no case 
fWilized, though the quantity of animal matter remain- 
ing in them was very small. There was also a good deal 
of iron slag, such as is formed in smelting furnaces; 
which is the more extraordinary, as the smelting of iron is 
now unknown in that neighbourhood. Lieutenant Caut- 
ley also found much kankar (nodules of lime), which is 
nowhere found on the surface in that part of the country. 
The specimens sent to the Asiatic Society were very 
multifarious : there were arrow heads, rings, a variety of 
ornaments, beads of all sorts, a weight modelled into the 
form of a frog, as is common in Ava and parts of India, 
weighing 360 grains ; a metal handle for a pot or other 
vessel, a button-hook, a number of selais, or little instru- 
ments used by the ladies of Hindustan for ornamenting 
their eyes with surma : these little tools are all of copper, 
while those now in use are never made of that metal, but 
are more commonly formed of zinc But the most in- 
teresting circumstance was the discovery of a number of 
coins, which help us to give a probable guess at the time 
when the town was submerged ; and although the great 
uncertainty of ancient Hindu history makes it impossible 
to fix the date with accuracy, there can be little doubt 
that it could not be much later than the Christian aera. 
Suine of the coins are those generally known by the de- 
signation of Indo-Scythic ; many are quite unknown, 
though similar to those found in other places in Upper 
India. Some are mere square lumps of silver, like the 
circulating medium of China, and which were probably 
in general -use before the introduction of coined money. 
The number of coins found was about 170 : some sus- 
picion was at first excited at finding two modern ones 
amongst them ; but this was soon accounted for by the 
way hi which the superintendent obtained them ; he paid 
the workmen for such coins as they brought him from 
the excavation, and they without doubt took the oppor- 
tunity of puttiug off a few from some other source. 

The manner in which this Indian Herculaneum was 
submerged was in all probability the washing down de- 
posits of mud and silt from the hills in the neighbour- 

hood. Scarcely a year passes without some change of 
this nature happening ; and a zemindar informed Lieut. 
Cautky that he himself well remembered when the whole 
of the tract between the Nogaon and the Maskarrah was 
a low clay soil, cultivated with rice ; that it had been 
gradually rising, and that it was covered to the depth of 
six or seven feet in one severe rainy season, which had 
seriously endangered the town of Behut. 

A town in a depressed locality like the one under con- 
sideration would, if depopulated, soon be covered by 
such depositions, and the exterminating wars to which 
the country m the neighbourhoood of the mountains ap- 
pears to have always been subject, would sufficiently 
account for such depopulation. Whatever may have 
been the cause of abandonment in the present case, the 
quantity of coin left shows it to have teen sudden, but 
there is no further evidence to guide us. The rapid sub- 
mersion consequent upon its low situation would prevent 
its being re-occupied when the cause of abandonment was 
withdrawn ; and the experience of such a calamity would 
suggest the necessity of selecting more elevated sites, such 
as are now invariably chosen for Hindu towns and villages. 

A more extended excavation of the buried town would 
without doubt well reward the search ; but it is to be 
feared that the expense of such an operation, and the 
great distance of the place from the seat of government 
(above 1000 miles), will be a bar to its being soon ac- 
complished. The work would not be difficult, for the 
superincumbent earth is loose and easily removed ; and 
the result would afford specimens of ancient art, and 
relics of ancient modes of life, which it would be vain to 
seek elsewhere. Hindu history previous to the Moham- 
medan conquest is so obscure, that any information de- 
rived from coins or monuments of so remote a date would 
tend to its illustration. 

Characteristics of Society. — The character of society 
may be predicated at any particular period with tolera- " 
ble accuracy by observing the class which receives the 
largest share of popular esteem. If we hear of a people 
amongst whom women are universally degraded, and com- 
pelled to undergo severe labour, from which the other sex 
claims an exemption, it may be concluded with perfect 
certainty that such a people are in a low stage of barbarism. 
The elevation of women in social rank is one of the earliest 
tokens of civilization. In a comparatively rude period of 
society the qualities most in esteem are those of the sue- 
cessful soldier, who also naturally becomes a legislator and 
statesman. The force of reason and opinion are as yet but 
weak, and the austere authority of the sword is required. 
In another period, perhaps the priesthood hold an undue 
predominance. This is the age of superstition, when men 
have not learned to think for themselves, but all their facul- 
ties are benumbed, and so remain until released from (his 
mental bondage. It is in a still more advanced state of 
society that the claims of labour and industry are recognised, 
and begin to assume the rank and importance to which 
they are entitled. During the age of military predominance, 
the merchant, the artisan, and the cultivator of the soil are 
looked upon with contempt, and their callings considered 
as placing them beneath the range of noble and generous 
feelings. The decline of such an unjust and unfounded 
opinion is one of those triumphs which can only be achieved 
by a higher civilization and a wider diffusion oi intelligence. 
The prejudice still exists, though confined to a narrow 
circle, winch has been rapidly contracting during the last 
half century. " In the course of the last sixty years," says 
M. de Sismondi, in his ' Etudes sur TEconomie Politique,' 
" there has been effected in general opinion, with regard 
to labour and industry, a revolution still more complete 
than that which has taken place with regard to political 
rights. It has been recognised, has been proclaimed by 
philosophers, that labour is the great benefactor of the 
humau race, and labour has been thenceforward in some 
degree ennobled. Soon, indeed, when the noblesse of 
France was proscribed and emigrant, it placed its point of 
honour in living on the labour of its own hands rather than 
in soliciting alms, and learned to put in practice on its own 
account the lessons it had applauded under Louis XV. and 

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[March H, 1S38. 

Louis XVI. Its example consumniated the overthrow of 
a prejudice which reason had already shaken, and the arts 
which nourish the human race recovered their legitimate 
station/' In the United States of America, and in all new 
countries, no man deems that his hands are sullied by labour, 
hut on the contrary a wholesome state of feeling exists 
which renders manual exertion honourable. If it were 
asked what class of men would receive, in the present or 
next generation, the deserts to which their labours, when 
rightly understood and assiduously performed, justly entitle 
them, it might be answered, with every appearance of proba- 
bility, — those who improve the moral and intellectual cha- 
racter of individuals, and fit them to perform the various 
duties of life with satisfaction to themselves and advantage 
to others. The objects of a comprehensive system of public 
instruction (which is gradually becoming a more urgent 
want) are so vast and important, that it is quite impossible 
for it not to elevate those to whom its practical working is 
committed. In a circular addressed to the masters of all 
the primary schools in France, by M. Guizot, the Minister 
of Public Instruction, he has expressed with admirable pro- 
priety the view which ought to be taken of their labours 
by an enlightened community. In this country an effort 
will shortly be made to place the " educator " in a position 
worthy the importance or the duties which should devolve 
upon him, a prize having been offered by the Central Society 
or Education for the best essay on tfie Expediency and the 
Means of Elevating the Profession of the Educator in Pub- 
lic Estimation. . 


[Prom Stctdman's • Wanderings and Adventures in the Interior of 
. Southern Africa.*] 

Another melancholy effect of superstition among the 
Caffres-is observable in the credence so implicitly given 
to the influence of persons denominated " Igiaka-lurasulu," 
or Rain-makers. The country being subject to frequent 
droughts, and a consequent dearth of pasturage being 
severely felt by a people whose hopes of support and 
wealth depend chiefly on their cattle, rain is looked for at 
such times with the greatest anxiety ; and a belief prevails 
amongst these infatuated tribes, that it can be withheld or 
granted at the will of certain wise men, who have obtained 
the distinction of rain-doctors,'and are supported for their 
imaginary 'services by their* respective Chiefs. On making 
application for the assistance of one of these necromancers 
much ceremony prevails : the. Chief and his attendant war- 
riors proceed in great state to his dwelling, with presents of 
cattle ; and, after signifying their request in due form, they 
institute a grand feast on the occasion, which is often con- 
tinued for several days, while the impostor pretends that he 
is using his magic charms. At their dismissal, various in- 
structions are delivered, on their adherence to which the 
expected boon is described entirely to depend. Many of 
these instructions are simple in the extreme, consisting 
mostly of cautions to the parties — not to look behind them 
on their departure— on no account to address one another 
or any persons whom they may fall in with on their jour- 
ney ;— the necessity being also inculcated of compelling all 
whom they may meet to return with them and follow the 
same restrictions. If rain occurs, their belief in the sup- 
posed rain-maker's art is strengthened and confirmed ; if 
disappointment ensues, their own involuntary departure 
from his instructions is blamed as the cause of it, and the 
same idle ceremony is repeated, the conjurer still retaining 
his wonted influence. Amidst a variety of circumstances 
which might be adduced in illustration of this strange de- 
lusion, the following particulars were related to me during 
my stay at Wesleyville:— Pato on one occasion came to Mr. 
Shaw, and remarked he had frequently heard him say, 
when preaching, that no man could make rain ; that the 
God of the Bible could alone cause it to descend upon the 
earth. He complained that in consequence the rain -maker's 
craft was much endangered, since the Caffres believed in 
his ability to produce rain on their solicitations. " Let us, 
therefore," said he, " have the question set at rest. We 
will have our rain-maker summoned to meet you in an open 
plain, when all the Caffres of the surrounding kraals snail 
be present, to judge between yourself and him." Mr. Shaw 
agreed to this proposition, and appointed a time and a place 
for the trial of their rain-maker's skill. The day arrived, 
and with it thousands of Caffres from the neighbouring 
/country. The Chiefs all appeared in their war dresses, and 
everything was arranged for the event, in the full pomp of 

a Caffre show. Mr. Shaw being confronted with a cele- 
brated rain-maker, declared openly, before them all, that 
God alone gave rain ; and the more to convince them, he 
offered to present the rain-maker with a team of oxen, if he 
should succeed in causing any to descend within a certain 
specified time. The rain-maker commenced his ceremonies, 
which, according to Mr. Shaw's description, were highly 
calculated to impose on the ignorant minds of the Caffres'; 
but the time expired, and no rain fell, nor was there the 
least appearance of its approach. He still continued his 
exertions, but without effect; till Pato, seeing how the 
matter was likely to terminate, began to inquire of the 
rain-maker, with evident dissatisfaction, why he had so 
long imposed on them ? The defence was, that Pato had 
not treated him with the same liberality as his father, who 
had always paid handsomely when he wanted rain, and for 
whom rain had been always supplied, as they well knew, on 
proper remuneration. Mr. Shaw here took an opportunity 
of pointing to some half-famished cattle, belonging to the 
rain-maker himself, which were in view on an adjacent hill, 
and asked him how it occurred that his own oxen were 
starving for want of pasturage in the absence of rain ; thus 
clearly representing to the people, that had he possessed the 
skill to which he pretended, it was not likely he would have 
neglected his own interests. The rain-maker replied, ad 
dressing the people, — "I have never found a difficulty in 
making rain, until he came among us (alluding to Mr 
Shaw) ; but now no sooner do I collect the clouds, and the 
rain is about to fall in copious showers on the dry and 
parched soil, than there immediately begins a sound of 
ting, tins* ting, (alluding to the Chapel bell), which puts 
the clouds to night, and prevents the rain from descending 
on your land." . Whether this plea obtained belief or not 
among the majority of the Caffres, Mr. Shaw coiild not do 
cide; but this he knew, that Pato had never made the 
Igiaka any more presents for rain. ' . ^ 

A Savings' -Bank for Com. — In Norway there are no 
dealers or weekly markets attended by purchasers, who 
buy at one place and sell at another. If the farmer has 
any grain to spare, he can do nothing with it, unless he 
happens by chance to find consumers' on* the spot. There 
is no intermediate dealer between the corn-grower and the 
consumer. Under such a system agriculture can never 
flourish, nor can the country be independent of foreign 
supply. From the want of a certain and ready market for 
his farm-produce the farmer naturally wastes it. His 
housekeeping, with its four meals a day, its consumption of 
brandy, ale, butter, cheese, milk, and other farm-produce, 
besides his keeping superfluous horses and servants, is far 
from frugal. A Scotch farmer's family, from the same 
extent of land, and from an equal crop, would at least have 
one-half more to sell. Norway could probably subsist its 
own population in ordinary seasons, if its domestic trade 
were free, if the agriculturist had the stimulus of ready 
and free markets, and his habits of living were formed upou 
the certainty of being able to turn into money all he could 
save or spare. As it is, however, there is some surplus 
grain, without dealers to buy it, and these magazines [large 
red-painted buildings previously described] are very ingeni- 
ous institutions for supplying the want of this intermediate 
agenev between the producers and consumers. The farmer 
takes Viis surplus grain to it, and for the time it remains he 
receives at the rate of one-eighth of increase per annum . 
if he deposits eight bushels, he can take out nine at the end 
of twelve months, or in that proportion for shorter periods ; 
and he is charged at the same rate of one-eighth per annum 
for any portions of his quantity he may take out If he 
overdraws, or had none deposited, but receives a quantity 
in loan, he pays for such advance at the rate of one-fourth 
of increase per annum ; thus, if he takes eight bushels, he 
pays back ten at the end of twelve months, or at that rate 
for the time he has the loan. It often occurs that night 
frosts blight the crops on particular farms, even in seasons 
when those around in general are good. But for these in- 
genious establishments the farmer might be in great distress 
for seed or bread. The small profit which occurs upon the 
transactions defrays the expense of a building, a clerk, and 
such items, and the concern is entirely under the manage- 
ment of the bonder or peasant proprietors. — Lain g's Journal 
of a Residence in Norway. 

printed by Wxlmah Cfcowif and gpics, Stamford Sttreu 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 24, 1838. 


[Harvest in Normandy.] 

An account baa already been given in ' The Penny Ma- 
gazine ' (Nos. 234 and 231) of the social condition, the 
manners and costume of Normandy ; but the above cut, 
from an original sketch, affords an opportunity of pre- 
senting further details of the rural economy of this inter- 
esting part of France. 

A glance at the cut is sufficient to show that agricul- 
tural industry in Normandy is regulated by circum- 
stances different from those which determine the charac- 
ter of British husbandry. " Seven horses, four men, and 
two boys, will carry eight or ten acres of barley a-day, 
half a mile distance, at a cost of 5;. 6d. an acre."* In 
Normandy the average produce of barley is from 425 to 
460 sheaves per hectare (24 acres), each sheaf weighing 
28£ pounds, or about 2 stones. t The produce of ten 
acres will therefore be about 1840 sheaves. To carry 
eight of these at one journey, as appears from the cut to 
be the practice, 230 journeys of one mile each must be 
performed. For several days of continuous labour, and 
with a weight of 16 stones on his sides, the small though 
hardy and active Norman horse would not, on an aver- 
age, perform more than 20 miles a day ; and it would 

* Bayldon on ' Rents and Valuations.' 

+ Parliamentary Paper— 'Foreign Agric.' 
Vol. VII. 

take at least 11 days to harvest a field which the 
English farmer, aided by capital, is enabled to secure in 
one day, at an expense of less than 3/. To get through 
the same work in the same time on the Normandy plan, 
11 men and 11 horses would be required. What a 
waste of labour is here ! The farmer in England com- 
bines his forces in such a manner that not a moment is 
lost. One of his waggons is always loading in the field, 
another is on the road, and another unloading at the 
barn ; and the work is more cheerfully and vigorously 
performed than if each of the men were creeping the 
whole of the day by the side of his horse laden with eight 

It is quite evident, therefore, from the above compari- 
son of the economy in the two modes of harvesting grain, 
that in Normandy the land is cultivated under circum- 
stances which diner materially from those by which the 
English farmer is surrounded ; and that in fact the 
Norman practice can only co-exist with an occupation of 
the land so circumscribed as to afford but little surplus 
after each family has derived the means of subsistence 
from the annual produce. The chief object of obtaining 
a surplus at all is to provide a few luxuries which cannot 
be raised from the land ; cash for the payment of taxes 

Digitized by VjOOQIC 



[M4&0B 24' 

and other email expanse*, besides a small sum to be 
hoanled for important emergencies. The manufacture 
of materials for wearing apparel is an occupation of the 
winter's cvening» In such a position, the cultivator of 
the soil can afford to earry on his pursuit in a manner 
which would be ruinous on a large farm in England, 
where the best principles of agriculture must be studied, 
and the land is stimulated to the utmost of its productive 
powers. Nearly all the necessaries and the whole of the 
luxuries of life must be obtained by exchange in the one 
case, and the amount of these which can be purchased 
depends upon the quantity of produce which is 
brought to market by every effort of skill and intelli- 
gence. In the other case many wants are supplied with- 
out having recourse to the medium of exchange, and the 
tastes and habits, which can only find the means of gra- 
tification out of the sale of surplus produce, not existing 
in any great strength or variety, the stimulus to agricul- 
tural improvement is not quickened, and the land yields 
only half the produce which a superior system would 
force from it. " The power of exchanging is the vivify- 
ing principle of industry. It stimulates agriculturists to 
adopt the best system of cultivation, and to raise the 
largest crops, because it enables them to exchange what- 
ever portion of the produce of their lands exceeds their 
own consumption, for other commodities conducive to 
their comforts and enjoyments ; and it equally stimulates 
manufacturers to improve the quality and to increase the 
quantity and variety of their goods, that they may 
thereby be enabled to obtain a greater quantity of raw 
produce. A spirit ©f industry is thus universally dif- 
fused ; and that apathy and languor which are charac- 
teristic of a rude state of society entirely disappear."* 
44 The soil of France is for the most part better than that 
of England ;"t and yet " the whole agricultural capital 
employed in England is to that applied to the support of 
labourers as five to one; that is, there is four times as 
much agricultural capital used as there is of capital ap- 
plied to the maintenance of labour used directly in till- 
age." J In France the auxiliary capital used does not 
amount to more than twice that applied to maintain 
rustic labour.§ The agricultural labourer is better fed 
and better clqthed in England than in France ; yet out 
of every 1000/. of agricultural capital in England 20Q/. 
only is expended in manual labour, while in France 333/. 
is devoted to the same purpose on a better soil, but with 
far less valuable results. 

The state of French agriculture, as compared with that 
of England, is likewise illustrated by the well-known 
fact that in England the proportion of individuals em- 
ployed in this department* of industry is as one te two, 
while in France exactly the contrary exists, and instead 
of one agriculturist raising produce enough for his own 
support and that of two non-agriculturists, the labours of 
two agriculturists are required to maintain one non- 
agriculturist. The comparative effects will be better 
comprehended by resolving the whole population of a 
country into one clas3. Such a community would ne- 
cessarily be in a state of great rudeness, not only as re- 
gards literature, the arts and sciences, and everything 
which vanes and embellishes life, but also in respect 
to the implements of labour and the simplest articles 
of necessity. The sketch at the head of this notice is as 
significant an illustration as could well be presented of 
the two causes which contribute to depress the agricul- 
ture of France. I. The practice which it exhibits indi- 
cates the want of stimulus occasioned by the compara- 
tively small- amount of produce put into circulation 
through the medium of exchange ; and 2. It also may 
be taken as inseparable from the division of the land into 

• Mr. M'Ctilloch on < Disposal of Property 
f Arthur Younjr : 4 Tr,ivel« i Q J." ra i K . e# » 
I Jones on ' Kent,' ». 230. 

by Will.' 

§ Coiu.t Chaptal 

•mall peculations. The total number of proprietors of 
estates in France is 10,896,682 ; and the total number 
of estates or divisions of estates is 123,360,338.* This 
does not give the number of individual properties, but, 
according to the Duke de Gaete, the number in 1818, 
when there were 10,414,121 taxable properties, was 
4,833,000 ; and perhaps the present number may be 
taken at nearly 5,000,000, who with their families con* 
stitute about one-half of the population of France. 

• Since the Revolution the agriculture of France has 
undergone great improvements. ; Before that event the 
proportion of agriculturists to non-agriculturists was, ac- 
cording to the best authorities, as four to one, instead of 
two to one, as at present. Arthur Young, who travelled 
in France in tye years 1787-8-9, states that, in some of 
the finest districts, agriculture was then in the same state 
as in the tenth century. Tha pastures of Normandy 
have always been celeorated for their richness, and 
Arthur Young thought we had nothing equal to them 
either in England or Ireland, " not even the Vale of 
Limerick." These pastures were well stocked ; but with 
regard to tillage, anc understood to be 

one of the best pulti in France, he re- 

marks : — '« I did no r a t e d acre in the 

whole province. You every wucrc miu either a dead and 
useless fallow, or else the fields so neglected, run out and 
covered with weeds, that there can be no crop propor- 
tioned to the soil." " Shameful products !" he ex- 
claims, after giving the average crops of what he 
terras these " rroble soils;" and yet there was everything 
which could invite and stimulate the industry of man, — 
but his efforts were paralyzed : — " The political institu- 
tions and spirit of the Government having for a long 
series of ages tended strongly to depress the Tower classes 
and favour the higher ones, the farmers, in the greater 
part of France, are blended with the peasants." They 
were destitute either of capital or enterprise. The mode 
of raising the taxes also tended to repress agricultural 
improvement. It has left, however, one consequence 
which may be regarded as beneficial rather than other- 
wise. A little show of wealth being taken as a sign that 
more existed, which would appear were it not for icar of 
being taxed, the principle of economy became deeply 
rooted both in the habits and manners of the people. 

The domains of the " Grand Seigneurs" were not culti- 
vated in a manner which made up for the generally de- 
fective character of French agriculture. In a' rich 
district intersected by rivers, and one of the best situated 
for markets, Arthur Young observes — " The quantity of 
waste land is surprising." A great proportion of this land 
belonged to two of the largest landowners in France j 
and he adds — " Thus it is, whenever you stumble on a 
Grand Seigneur you are sure to find his property a de- 
sert." * * * " AH the signs of their greatness I have yet 
seen are wastes, lande&> deserts, ferns, ling. Go to their 
residence, wherever it may be, and you would probably . 
find them in the midst of a forest, very well peopled with 
deer, wild boars and wolves." And again, — " Great 
lords love too much an environ of forests, bears, and 
huntsmen, instead of marking their residence by the ac- 
companiment of well-cultivated farms, clean cottages, 
and happy peasants." As to the state of the peasantry, 
says a contemporary writer, " Humanity will suffer 
by a detail of their manner of livingt." These woods 
and forests, in which the old noblesse hud followed 
the chase, according to elaborate rules more resem- 
bling those of an art than a pastime, were the first 
to suffer devastation when the revolutionary storm 
spread itself into the remote corners of France. Mr. 
Greene, writing in May, 1TO1, says — " The deyasta- 

* 'Statistics of France:' Tables published by the Minister of 
Commerce in 1&35. 

* 'Normandy during the Revolution,' by 6. Greene, laud- 
agent to the prince of Monaco for estates in Lower Normandy, 

Digitized by 





tion committed in the prince's woods and forests, and 
the theft and plunder of his timber, are amongst the 
irst acts of violence; they have hewn down and cast 
into the fire whole thriving nurseries of oak and beech, 
and stripped every tree that answered to a poor man the 
trouble of cutting down. In a word, the whole estate 
begins to exhibit, in a natural sense, a mutilated and 
mangled prospect, once pleasing and profitable, and, in 
a moral sense, a yet more melancholy view of the depra- 
vity, the ingratitude, and the wantonness of men when 
they have not the fear of the law to restrain them." But 
the Revolution marched onward ; the feudal privileges 
of the nobility and clergy were abolished ; the gabelle, 
corvees, and other oppressive exactions put an end to ; 
the property of the church and of the emigrants was 
thrown upon the market, and passed into the hands of a 
new class of proprietors : these have been the causes to 
which, in conjunction with the more general extension of 
knowledge, the subsequent improvement of French agri- 
culture is to be attributed. The further subdivision of 
the land may check its progress, but that is an evil 
which, in the course of events, may be corrected without 
any departure from (he principle of equal partition of 

A few words may be said on the share which women 
in France take in the occupations of husbandry. In this 
country the rural labours performed by women are of so 
easy a nature* and arc regarded in so agreeable a light, 
as to form a pleasing feature in poetical descriptions of 
rural life.* But with us the labour of women is gene- 
rally only needed at extraordinary seasons of activity, 
their household duties and the care of their families 
claiming their attention in the interval. Throughout 
the continent, but particularly in France, the women are I 
employed at all seasons and in every description of rural 
labour. The value of a woman's labour approaches 
more nearly that of a man's than in England. In the 
duchies of Mecklenburg the value of a day and a half of 
a woman's labour is reckoned equivalent to one day's 
labour of a man,t while in England the rate at which 
women are paid for field labour shows that the propor- 
tionate value is as two to one, instead of, as in Mecklen- 
burg, one and a half to one. This may perhaps be 
taken as good evidence that here women only undertake 
labour of a very light description, and that only occa- 
sionally, while on the continent (duchies of Mecklen- 
burg) women are employed three-fifths of the time of the 
men. It should however be recollected that in other Eu- 
ropean countries it is not so great a task for a woman to 
approach to an equality of exertion with a man as in 
England. " Our labourers perform nearly one-third more 
work, and perform it better, than in any of the coun- 
tries of eastern Europe, excepting the Netherlands." J 
But it is only necessary to observe what is constantly 
meeting the traveller's eye to be fully sensible of the 
different circumstances under which women labour in 
the fields there and in England. In the neighbourhood 
of Vesoul, " when the man has had a spell at the plough- 
handles, he gives them up to the woman : here were 
women at plough, women digging potatoes, and women 
spreading manure."! In Flanders are " the largest 
and coarsest women I ever saw. In the barns in the 
villages I saw many of them threshing wheat ; but really 
they are persons apparently so well adapted to it that it 
is not a striking spectacle." |f When on the road 
between Mete and Mezieres, u a voice I took for that of 
a postilion to a courier, or some public conveyance, 
warned me to get to the side of the road. The vigorous 

" ailles, done !" and the not less vigorous cracking of 
the whip, came from a young woman not more than 
seventeen or eighteen years old, who trotted by me, 
being astride upon one of the wheel-horses of four fat 
little animals, that, two a-breast, were drawing a little 
li^ht farmer's waggon. She was riding on the horse 
without a saddle or saddle-cloth."* This charioteer, for 
the traveller would not term her carter, was the daughter 
of a small farmer. " Near Chatillon-sur-Indre," says 
Mr. J. P. Cobbett, a brother of the above, " I saw 
several women spreading dung with their hands, while 
others carried it upon their backs in baskets to the 
field. "t He further remarks — " I cannot help observing 
a great difference between the men and women of 
France. Englishmen are certainly more grave than 
Frenchmen ; but I have been surprised to see the coun- 
tenances of the women so serious, so full of anxiety and 
care." The following is his description of the women 
belonging to the rural population of France : — " They 
are round-shouldered ; they walk with a step as heavy 
as that of the most awkward of our ploughboys ; their 
faces are very much sun- burnt, and their features are so 
hard that they scarcely look like women ;" and he 
further alludes to " the muscular form of their bare and 
brown arms " in proof of the hard labour which they 
undergo. This effect of labour has often struck English 
tourists in France, being so different from the appearance 
of women of the same class in England. Mrs. Stothard 
thought at first that the women of France were remark- 
able for their longevity. " Many females looked so 
wretchedly old and withered, their faces so covered with 
deep and innumerable wrinkles, that 1 supposed some of 
them were at least ninety years. Curiosity induced me 
to inquire of several their ages ; when I found the eldest 
to whom I had spoken had not reached her seventieth 
year. I never saw such miserable decrepid-iooking 
women in any part of England." J 

The women of Normandy, it is said, have a good deal 
about them which answers to the sense of the word %t tidy," 
and they do not perform the heavy sort of work winch 
devolves upon women in other parts of France, sowing 
being one of their most laborious tasks. 

* Thomson's ( Seasons :' Hay-making, 'Summer;' Heaping, 

t M. Von Tburnen, in Mr. Jacob's Report on the Corn Trade. 
- I Mr. Jacob's Report. 

I J. M. Cobbett's ' Letters from France; 1825. 

Supply of Furs. — An idea is entertained by some per- 
sons that the races of wild animals whose skins are an 
article of commerce will some day be extinct, owing to the 
rivalry of traders ; and it may follow that furs will be so 
scarce as to be handed down from one generation to ano- 
ther by will, as was the case a few centuries ago. This 
however is an anticipation not likely to be realized. The 
textile materials of dress, especially wool, are much supenor 
in their quality, and, when in a manufactured state, form a 
better protection from the weather than at any previous 
period; and we are consequently past the age of wearing 
skins, which, in the history of costume, precedes the im- 
provement of manufactured fabrics. But if the extermina- 
tion of wild animals should nearly ens»e, the supply of furs 
would not on that account cease, as a sufficient number 
of animals would be domesticated solely for the sake of their 
skins. This is already done to some extent in thj north of 
Europe. Mr. Laing, in his interesting * Notes on Norway,' 
says — "The fur or skin used for iheir winter pelisses by 
the 'Fjelde' people is really handsomer, although much 
cheaper, than that of the wolf or bear. It belongs to a par- 
ticular kind of dog, with a remarkably fine, soft, and glossy 
fur. These dogs are bred for the sake of their skins; and 
it appears to me that many of the best of the dark brown 
or black muffs and tippets of our English ladies are merely 
well-selected skins of these Fjelde dogs. A pelisse of 
such fur costs about 3/. 9*., while that of wolf-skin costs 
from 71. 10*. to 9/. \0s. n 

* J. M. Cobbelt's * Letters from France,' 1825. 
f < Ride of Eight Hundred Miles in France.' 
I ' Letters written during a Tour in Normaudv &c' 


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DAODVO DTrTTTDPO TTT T«» V,^»v na * -. f\. 

This noble "picture is Barry's best production. He has 
identified himself with it, having introduced his own 
portrait in the character of the celebrated Grecian painter 
Timanthes, " holding in his hand a picture of the Cyclops 
and Satyrs, as related by ancient writers." Our outline 
will give a general idea of the picture, which is 42 feet 
long ; and the most remarkable group of figures in it, 
that representing Diagoras (to whom Pindar inscribed 
one of his most beautiful Olympic odes) borne on the 
shoulders of his sons, is shown in the accompanying wood- 
cut. The other great group will be given in a subsequent 

The series of pictures is intended to illustrate an idea ; 
and the ideal is therefore essentially involved in the 
construction of the pictures. Of the first and second in 
the series we have already given illustrative notices ; and 
the reader will have remarked that the very attempt to 
depict such an idea is open to objections and difficulties, 
which perhaps the finest genius could not obviate or 
overcome. In criticism on such a subject, we must look 
more at what the artist has achieved than what he has 
been unable .to do. But as the idea which Barry has 
sought to illustrate is but another mode of expressing 
the progress of man in civilization, which again is but 
another word for that combination of causes which tends 
to elevate the race in intellectual and moral being, we 
have a right to expect that the pictorial allegories of the 
artist should embody some great truths in history. 
Accordingly there are two strictly historical pictures in 
the series-— the one before us, and the fifth in number, 
which represents the Society for the Encouragement of 
Arts and Manufactures distributing their annual prizes. 
The latter is appropriate enough both to the series and 
to the locality of the pictures (the great room of the 
Society), but in relation to a pictorial history of civiliza- 
tion it is a mere episode. The present picture, however, 
completely satisfies the mind as a historical painting. It 
embodies one of the greatest facts in the history of man. 
It shadows forth a state of things that once existed, 
whose influence has never ceased to operate on the race. 
We see proclaimed to the eye the truth which redeems 
History from being a poor and barren study, a mere 
record of all the follies and crimes of the generations 
that have passed away. Nothing that civilization has 
done for man has been lost ; its work has never either 
retrograded or stood still. We may think its progress 
slow and fluctuating — but it is not the less certain and 
sure. Society lives, and expands from age to age, 
though individuals die perpetually, and disease, evil 

passions, and war have been continually weeding out 
the old, the young, and the middle-aged. So, in like 
manner, the work of civilization has been continually 
going on, in spite of all the changes in its organized 
forms, and in spite of the ruin of individual monuments 
of intellect and art. The spirit of Grecian literature 
and art passed into Rome ; from Rome it has descended 
to us ; and now it fills all the scholarship of Europe. 
But even if it were confined to England, it would be dif- 
fused a thousand fold. For though some sudden con- 
vulsion of nature were to sink our island to the bottom 
of the sea, still Grecian literature and art, speaking 
through the medium of our own, and using our mother- 
tongue, would be heard over half the globe, carrying on 
the work of the civilization of the world. 

The object of the artist in the " Victors at Olympia " 
is not to present us merely with a historical picture, so 
as to be tied down to unity of time and subject. It is 
rather to express generally what Greece has done for the 
human race. Yet, in selecting his materials, he has 
managed them with the hand of a master. There is in 
the picture a unity both of time and place. It is the 
age of Pericles — the brillant era of Grecian glory. The 
place is the Stadium of Olympia, where all Greece may 
be supposed to be gathered together. 

" As for the games of Greece," says Pausanias, " this 
is what I have learned concerning them from some Ele- 
ans, who appeared to me profoundly skilled in the study 
of antiquity. According to them Saturn is the first who 
reigned in Heaven, and in the Golden Age he had a tem- 
ple at Olympia. Jupiter being born, Rhea, his mother, 
committed the education of him to the Dactyli of Mount 
Ida. These Dactyli came afterwards from Crete to 
Elis, for Mount Ida is in Crete. They were five bro- 
thers, of whom Hercules was the eldest. He proposed 
to his brothers a running match, whereof the prize was 
to be a crown of olive, for the olive was then so common 
that they took the leaves of it to strew the ground, and 
to sleep upon. Hercules was the first who brought that 
tree into Greece from among the Hyperboreans. It was 
therefore Hercules of Ida who had the honour of inventing 
these games, and gave them the name of Olympian ; and 
because they were five brothers, he would have these 
games celebrated every fifth year. Others allege that 
Jupiter, having triumphed over the Titans, instituted 
these games himself, wherein Apollo signalised his ad- 
dress, and won the prize of the race from Mercury, and 
that of boxing from Mars." 

Such were the notions which the Greeks themselvet 

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entertained respecting the origin of these celebrated 
games. They appear to have been established in very 
early times, as far back as about 1104 b.c, but they 
were not regularly celebrated till after 776 b.c. From 
that time the games served as an era to all Greece, 
reckoning by Olympiads. The celebration of the games 
drew a prodigious concourse of people to the place ; 4 and 
the reverence with which the festival was regarded was 
extended to the country in which it took place, the dis- 
tricts in the neighbourhood of the cities of Olympia and 
Elis being always free from the ravages of war as long as 
the games maintained their respectability. They were 
celebrated about the time of the Summer solstice, and 
lasted five days. As they were consecrated to Jupiter, 
and made part of the Grecian religious ceremonies, the 
first day was destined for the sacrifices; the other four 
to the combats, races on foot, on horse, and with cha- 
riots, &c. - 

The place where the games were celebrated was called 
the Stadium, near the city of Elis and the river Alpheus ; 
it was inclosed with walls. Here also was the far-famed 
temple of the Olympian Jupiter, in the sacred grove called 
Altis, which contained chapels and altars dedicated to 
the gods, and statues of those who had obtained prizes in 
the games. The reader will find, in the second volume 
of the * Penny Magazine,' a conjectural view of the sta- 
tue of the Olympian Jupiter, the work of Phidias, and 

the admiration of all Greece. The following is the de- 
scription of Barry's picture :— 

u The artist has chosen that point of time when the 
victors in the several games are passing in procession be- 
fore the Hellanodics, or Judges, where they are crowned 
with olive in the presence of all the Grecians. At the 
right-hand corner of the piece the three Judges are seated 
on a throne, ornamented with medallions of Solon, Ly- 
curgus, and other legislators, and with trophies of the 
victories of Salamis, Marathon, and Thermopylae. 
Near the foot of the throne is a table, at which the scribe 
appears writing in the Olympic records of noble deeds 
the name, family, and country of the conqueror ; near 
this table a victor in the foot-race, having already re- 
ceived a branch of palm, which he holds in his hand, is 
crowned by an inferior Hellanodic ; next him is a foot- 
racer, who ran armed with a helmet, spear, and shield- 
Close following is seen a manly group, formed of two 
athletic figures bearing on their shoulders their aged 
father ; one of these represents a Pancratiast, the other 
the victor at the Cestus. The old man is Diagoras of 
Rhodes, who having in his youth been celebrated for his 
victories in the games, has, in his advanced age, 
the additional felicity of enjoying the fruits of the 
virtuous education he had given his sons, amidst the 
acclamations of the people of Greece ; some of whom 
are strewing flowers around the old man's head, while 

[The Victors 

one of his friends is grasping his right hand, and sup- 
posed to be making the celebrated speech recorded on 
this occasion, * Now, Diagoras, die, for thou canst not be 
made a god.* 

" The climax of this domestic felicity is well pointed out 

hy a child holding the arm of one of the victors, and 

looking up with joy in his countenance at the honours 

conferred on his grandfather. Near this beautiful group 

are seen a number of persons, the chief of whom repre- 

at Olympia.] 

sents Pericles, speaking to Cimon. Socrates, Euripides, 
and Sophocles, are earnestly attending to what is said 
by Pericles, whilst the malignant buffoon Aristophanes is 
ridiculously laughing, and pointing to the deformity of 
the cranium of the speaker, which was unusually long. 
The painter has, in the person of Pericles, introduced the 
likeness of the Earl of Chatham. Next appears in the 
front of the picture, a horse-racer ; and, close to him, a 
chariot drawn by four horses, on which is represented, in 

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[March 24, 

basso relievo, the triumph of Minerva over Neptun£, 
emblematical of the advantages of peace. In the chariot 
Is Hiero of Syracuse ; and round the chariot are several 
persons with musical instruments, accompanied by many 
youths, forming a chorus, which is led by Pindar sing- 
ing one of his odes, which he accompanies with his lyre. 

" As at one end of the picture there is represented a 
statue of Minerva, so at the other is that of Hercules 
trampling on Envy; which are comprehensive exemplars 
of that strength of body and strength of mind which 
were the great objects of Grecian education. Sitting on 
the base of the statue of Hercules, the artist has intro- 
duced his own portrait in the character of Timanthes, 
holding in his hand a picture of the Cyclops and Satyrs, 
as related by antient writers. 

" Behind the Stadium, at a distance, is a view of the 
beautiful Grecian temple of Jupiter Olympus in the 
Altis, the town of Elis, and the river Alpheus, as truly 
characteristic of the spot on which the ceremony that 
forms the subject of the picture may be supposed to have 
been performed." 

The " malignant buffoon ridiculously laughing," is a 
head represented as peering over the shoulder of the 
figure with outstretched arm, intended as Pericles. It 
would be as well to blot out from the printed description 
of the pictures this now exploded and stupid calumny 
against the Comic Muse of Athens. True, Aristophanes 
assaulted the sophists in the person of Socrates, whom he 
misrepresented as being himself a sophist. But if, in at- 
tacking Socrates, he abetted public clamour and prejudice, 
he also lashed with keen wit and fearlessness the follies 
and vices of the Athenians in general. 

The pictures of the domestic manners of the Athenians 
given by Aristophanes disclose a fact which is to us full 
of warning and instruction. In spite of all their ele- 
gance and refinement, the Greeks were a socially depraved 
people. They possessed the materials for building up a 
national existence more durable than all their monuments 
and works of art ; but the seeds of death were thickly 
sown throughout their national and domestic polity. The 
Elgin marbles, mutilated and broken fragments as they 
are, still furnish exquisite models of form and beauty, 
and are moulding all our notions of art. But even while 
the spirit of Phidias seems to proclaim triumphantly that 
intellect is an imperishable thing, does not also a mourn- 
ful voice sound out from these ruins of art, warning us 
against dedicating genius, with aU its humanizing influ- 
ences, to a less noble purpose than the moral and intel- 
lectual improvement of man ? The book, the picture, and 
the print are assisting in working out that great work to 
which Phidias lent all the magic of his power. But it 
was the fate of Phidias to exhaust the resources of his 
intellect in ministering to the pride of a corrupted people, 
and in adorning the pomps of a worship adverse to all 
the better and permanent interests of the race. Be it 
ours, in the light of experience, by the aid of a larger 
knowledge, and under the guidance of a pure and spirited 
faith, to show that art has a high destiny in civilization. 
This was one of the objects which Barry proposed to 
himself in painting the series of pictures we are now 
considering : let honour, therefore, rest on his memory. 


I Continued from No. 382.] 

In a letter to Pace, dated Louvain, 1517, Erasmus 
continues to ring the changes in praise of Britain. 
He congratulates Pace on having such a king, and the 
king on having such a Pace, and England on having 
them both. He wishes he could pass his whole life 
among the English, where, under the favour of princes, 
literature and morals flourish, hypocritical sanctity and 
skin-deep learning are either not known or held in con- 
tempt. He laments the death of Grocyn, but foresees 
that in the room of one a host will spring up. He thanks 

Pace for his continued services to him in his editorial 
business, but wishes he could turn over his New Testa- 
ment to some other editor, on account of the opposition it 
meets with, and the personal hostilities in which it has 
involved him. 

His letters from the Continent in 1518, give cata- 
logues of the English courtiers ; and they appear to great 
advantage under his panegyric. Pace he describes as 
indescribable, from his universal popularity, and the 
high favour in which he stands with the most humane 
king and the incomparable cardinal. " You know what 
a horror I entertain of the courts of princes; a life, in 
my estimation, of mere splendid misery, under the mask 
of happiness ; and yet in such a court as that I could 
well be content to be a sojourner, if my youth were to 
come over again. Among all the accomplished persons 
of the age, the king has the most taste for good books. 
The queen, the wonder of her sex, is devoted to letters, 
and as eminent for piety as learning: classical attain- 
ments and practical wisdom are the two passports to 
royal encouragement. Thomas Linacer is physician to 
the household : I need not enlarge on his character ; his 
published works are his encomium. Cuthbert Tunstall 
is secretary ; a post of the highest dignity, held by a 
man who is a world of all perfection within himself. 
William Montjoy is at the head of the queen's house- 
hold. John Golet is principal preacher at the Chapel 
Roval. Thomas More is a privy-councillor, the favourite 
both of the Muses and the Graces, to set forth whose 
merits would as much require an Apelles, as to paint 
Alexander the Great or Achilles." In another letter he 
represents More as a pattern of the true friend; and 
bears testimony to his agreeable qualities as a member of 
society ; to the exuberant cheerfulness of his spirit, which 
could give animation to the dullest subject, and conquer 
the gloom of the most melancholy temperament. The 
comedies which he wrote when a younc man, and his own 
performance in them, are noted, as well as his epigram- 
matic effusions and various sallies of wit. Contrasted 
with all this are his statesmanlike dignity, his pa- 
tronage of the poor and oppressed, his philosophical 
theories, his management of the royal mind, alternately 
by the wisdom of the counsellor and the facetiousness of 
the companion. 

It has been said to have been delightful to witness the 
wit-combats between Ben Jonson and Shakspeare. A si- 
milar delight must much earlier have been felt, by those 
who were present at the encounters between More and 
Erasmus. Their meeting without introduction at the 
lord mayor's table illustrates the vein of humour in thetii 
both. They had been long known to each other by epis- 
tolary correspondence. One of Erasmus's objects in one 
of his journeys to England was to become personally a«- 
quainted with his friend. But it was contrived by their 
host that they should rtot be introduced, but find each 
other out. They engaged in an argument at dinner. 
Erasmus felt himself pressed by his opponent's playful 
sarcasm, and exclaimed, " You are More, for you can be 
no one else :" and More retorted, " If you are not Eras- 
mus, you must be the devil." 

In a letter to Sir Henry Guilford, of May, 1519, he 
enters on the state of learning in England among the 
laity, as contrasted with the common herd of clergv. 
"What wonderful changes in human affairs! Formerly 
all zeal for literature was confined to the professors of re- 
ligion ; now the generality of them devote themselves to 
gluttony, luxury, or the accumulation of money ; the love 
of learning has devolved on temporal princes and the 
nobles in the service of the court. What school or mo- 
nastery produces so many patterns of probity and scho- 
larship as the circle to which you belong? Ought not 
we ecclesiastics to be ashamed of ourselves? The ban- 
quets of priests and divines are soaking ones ; the jokes 
that fly about are scurrilous onus ; the noise is not the 

Digitized by 





sober noise of philosophical argument or devout zeal : hut 
at princely tables, after the king's example, topics of 
theology or profane wisdom are modestly discussed. I 
used to dread the atmosphere of courts; hut if weak 
health and the pressure of old age stood not in my way, 
I would fain set up my rest in such a court as that, with all 
my.household furniture about me, the inventory of which 
coutains, exclusively, sundry quires of scribbled papers." 
In a letter written in the next month to a correspond- 
ent abroad, Erasmus gives a lengthened detail of Colet's 
life, And of some persecutions brought on him by reli- 
gious zeal, which involved him in disputes with the Bishop 
of London — " a, superstitious and impracticable Scotist, 
and of course in his own estimation a demigod." Charges 
were laid against him before the archbishop, one article 
of which was, that he had taught that images were not 
to be worshipped ; another, that though Dean of St. Paul's, 
he had abridged the hospitality enjoined by the apostle : 
that in two senses he had interpreted the text, " Feed my 
sheep" in an orthodox manner, feeding by exemplary 
life and sound doctrine ; but that, in a third case, he had 
heretically argued, that the apostles being poor, they 
could not be required to feed their disciples with carnal 
food, and that, therefore, the supplies of the Chapter 
kitchen were pared down to very scanty allowances. A 
third charge was, that he had preached against the old 
English practice of reading the 6ermon ; and thereby had 
obliquely reflected on his own bishop, whose advanced 
age had compelled him to adopt that mode of delivery. 
The archbishop knew Colet's merit, and protected him. 
The bishop then endeavoured to embroil him with the 
&urt, for saying in a sermon that the most unjust peace 
svas preferable to the most just war, at a time when the 
country was at war with France ; but the king knew the 
jrivate motives of the good hishop and exhorted him to 
, r o on in his own course ; at the same time cautioning him 
gainst preaching so as to discourage the soldiery. 
In a letter to Wolsey's physician, he expresses his sur- 
)rise and sorrow that Britain is constantly visited by the 
>lague, and by that sweating-sickness peculiar to the 
*land. In tracing the causes of this calamity, he cen- 
ures the English style of building, and the uncleanly 
labits of the people. " In the first place, tbey pay no 
egard to the aspect of their doors and windows : next, their 
ooras are so constructed as to admit no thorough draft : 
hen, many of the windows are glazed, to admit the light 
>ut shut out the wind ; notwithstanding which, the air 
aakes its way through chinks in the wall, and when it has 
nee got in, not being able to get out again, ripens into 
testilence. The floors are mostly of clay, and strewed 
nth rushes ; fresh rushes are periodically laid over them, 
ut the old ones remain as a foundation for perhaps 
wenty years together ; and these successive layers foitn a 
eposit of spitting, slops of beer, fragments of meat and 
sh bones, and other filth not to be named among well- 
red people. On every change of weather, a certain 
apour is exhaled, which in my humble opinion cannot be 
lealthy. Add to this, that England is not only sur- 
uunded by the sea, but marshy in many places. Then 
he common people have a marvellous taste for salted 
aeats. I will venture to say that the island would be 
auch more healthy if the flooring of rushes were discon- 
iimed, and chambers so built as to have two or three 
ides exposed to the outward air, with glass windows so 
onstructed as to stand open from top to bottom ; and 
•hen closed, to be closed effectually, without any holes in 
be wall to admit air unwholesomely, — for air should be 
Emitted or shut out, according to the state of the weather. 
Jefore I was thirty years old, if I slept in a room which 
ad been shut up for some months without ventilation, I 
v *s immediately attacked with fever. It would contri- 
bute to health if people eat and drank less, and lived on 
ircsh rather than salt meat. The roads would bear to be 
kfrt a little cleaner. You will laugh at me for having 

leisure to trouble myself about such matters, but I am 
partial to a country in which I have been received with 
hospitality, and I would end my days in it if I might." 

In a letter to Erasmus, of August, 1520, More laments 
the death of so many of their best friends in Oxford, 
Cambridge, and London, and the illness of others within 
the last few days ; among the rest, the death of Andreas 
Ammonius, a continental scholar established in England 
by Montjoy. " He seemed proof against contagion by 
the abstemiousness of his habits. The plague generally 
ran through whole families ; and Jmt a few hours before 
he died, he had been exulting in the escape df all his 
household. It is the character of this disorder, that it 
kills the first day or not at all. My wife, my children, 
and myself, are hitherto untouched ; the rest of my es- 
tablishment had it and have recovered. I can tell you 
this, that you may as well be in the heat of a battle as in 
this town. The plague has followed me from Calais 
hither ; but we must abide by whatever Providence de- 
signs for us. I have mrfde up my mind for all events, 
let them turn out as they may." 

In a very long letter of Melancthon to Erasmus, dated 
December, 1524, on the subject of the subsisting religious 
controversy, Melancthon thus distinguishes between the 
Germans and Britons : — " The good faith and sincerity 
of the Germans is loudly and universally proclaimed ; 
the Britons are not quite so well spoken of in that parti- 
cular ; but it has been my fate, on the contrary, to have 
found my most faithful friends in Britain, and some very 
much the reverse in Germany. But after all, national 
character is not to be fixed down by individual in- 


In No. 289 (volume for 1836) of the ' Penny Maga- 
zine,' a communication was inserted from a correspon- 
dent on the important subject of the instruction of the 
Blind. To this communication a few remarks were 
appended, which drew another communication from our 
correspondent, containing observations characterized by 
moderation and good sense, and evidently resulting from 
a practical acquaintance with the subject. As, however, 
there were controversial topics involved, and as it did not 
appear that the ' Penny Magazine ' could be of service to 
what may still be considered as only in an experimental 
state, the communication was laid aside. Another cor- 
respondent has sent a communication on the comparative 
merits of the common embossed alphabet, and Mr. 
Lucas's (of Bristol) stenographic alphabet. He writes 
warmly on a subject in which, above many, men may be 
expected to " agree to differ;" for it is to be presumed 
that the common object of all the friends of the blind is 
not to advance one mode of instruction, merely as such, 
above another, but to find out that mode which general 
consent shall agree to consider as the most efficacious in 
restoring to the blind the advantages of which the want 
of sight deprives them. 

Our correspondent affirms that Mr. Lucas's steno- 
graphic alphabet is far superior to the common Roman 
one ; and he complains that the friends of the latter are 
trying to discredit the former. We leave our readers to 
judge respecting the first assertion, by comparing the 
two alphabets, which are given below. Men who have 
considered them both differ in opinion respecting them ; 
and we, who have no practical acquaintance with the 
subject, cannot presume to decide. That the sense of 
touch is rapidly impaired by frequent contact with 
minute objects, is an argument which certainly tells in 
favour of having an alphabet as simple in its outline as 
it can be formed. But then the objection to the steno- 
graphic alphabet, that it tends to " dissociate the blind 
from the seeing," is more weighty than our correspondent 
gives it credit for. He says that the boys of the Basket- 
making Asylum in Bristol, are taught the common 

Digitized by 




[March 24, 1838. 

alphabet, and that several have been "for months 
groping after it in vain ;" while Mr. Lucas's steno- 
graphic alphabet, which is composed partly from Byron's 
symbols, can be learned by one day's application, and that 
Alstons Alphabet. 

the seeing can learn it in a much shorter space. But 
then the seeing have to learn it, which is not the case with 
the other. We can only leave the public to judge 
between them. 


Lucas's Alphabet. 

KCc Wl • / *-/*<^^ o }c-/ 


-I 3 \ tS\ - 

Condiments in Food. — It is not enough that a sufficient 
quantity of one or more of the nutritive principles be 
swallowed. The function of digestion must be called into 
action to enable the crude materials to be assimilated. This 
is partly excited by the mere presence of a substance in the 
stomach, but more effectually when that substance is in 
itself of a stimulating Quality, or is accompanied by certain 
accessories either added during the preparation of the food 
or at meal-times. Such accessories are termed condiments, 
which either make the food more grateful, or exercise a 
beneficial influence over the stomach during the process of 
digestion. The desire to eat is rarely so great when insipid 
food is offered to an individual as when savoury viands are 
presented. The very odour or aroma of these excites 
the salivary glands to more abundant secretion of saliva, 
which is a preparation for the digestion of the food 
about to be taken. Though the mere application of heat 
in the process of cooking develops an aroma from many 
substances which were previously devoid of it, either by 
altering the chemical composition of the material, or by 
volatilizing a principle latent in the substance, yet many 
adventitious articles are used to assist in increasing or mo- 
difying this odour, or to correct certain qualities in parti- 
cular kinds of food which are either disagreeable or inju- 
rious. Respecting the most common of these a few words 
may be allowed. That condiment which is of most uni- 
versal requirement and utility is salt, or chloride of sodium. 
It is the only one which is indispensable, for not only does 
it exist in the milk which forms the earliest nutriment of 
the infant, but at all subsequent periods of life it is needed. 
Independently of the part which this compound performs in 
the stomach during digestion, it is still further serviceable 
iu the blood, and more so in the blood of man than of any 
other being, as Berzelius has remarked that the blood of 
man contains three times more hydrochlorates than that of 
the ox. Besides, the use of salt greatly benefits the ali- 
mentary canal, and hinders the generation of worms. 
It is one of the most ready means of rendering in- 
sipid food acceptable to the palate, as is noticed in one of 
the earliest compositions which have come down to us. 
•* Can that which is unsavoury be eaten without salt ?" (Job, 
vi. 6.) Perhaps the next most important condiment is 
vinegar, which, like most vegetable acids, when taken in 
moderation, greatly assists in promoting the digestion of 
young meats of a gelatinous kind, such as veal. Mustard 
and peppers of different kinds are also useful, and more so 
in warm than cold countries, as they rouse the languid 
stomach, and enable it to effect the digestion of the mod. 
Hot pickles, from containing vinegar at the same time, 
arc of i en advantageous when used in moderation, but the 
abuse of such articles produces many serious effects, particu- 
larly obstruction of the liver, with its long train of disorders. 
The use of spices and aromatic agents not only renders the 
food more pleasant, but enables the stomach to bear a larger 
quantity. Hence they are too often made the means of 
leading the gourmand to be guilty of excess ; and that cook 
is often most prized who can most cunningly minister to 
the pampered appetite. This is perverting cookery, a 
highly proper and commendable art, from its legitimate end. 
*-Penny Cyclopedia, article Food, 

Condition of the Laplanders. — The condition of the wan 
dering Laplander forms a singular union of real wealth 
with real poverty. To support a family in the " Fjelde," a 
nock of from three to four hundred reindeer is necessary. 
He who possesses only from one to three hundred, must 
depend for subsistence partly . on fishing in the lakes and 
shooting, or must betake himself to the coast, or to bus 
bandry in a fixed situation; The value of a reindeer is 
about one- third of that of a cow : it sells for three or four 
dollars,* and a cow from nine to twelve ; and the meat, 
skin, and horns of the one sell as readily as those of the 
other. A flock of 400 reindeer, the minimum which cat 
support a family, supposing one-fourth of the number to be 
full grown, and the other 300 to be worth only one-third ot 
their value, must altogether be equal to a capital of 600 
dollars, or about 120/. sterling. Yet the yearly produce of 
this capital, which is greater than the value of all the pro- 
perty possessed by three or four families of the working 
class in a civilized community, and with which tbey would 
be far removed from want, is insufficient to support a Lap 
lander, even in the state of extreme privation -in which he 
habitually lives. This is a Striking instance of tlie real ex- 
pense of living in that natural state, as it has been called, 
or rather that barbarous one, in whic.h man consumes what 
he produces, and lives independent of the arts of civilized 
life, its tastes, and enjoyments. The Laplander uses no- 
thing which he does not make for himself, except the iron 
pot for dressing his victuals, and the piece of coarse cloth 
which forms his tent. He consumes nothing but what bis 
reindeer yield him ; his occasional excess in brandy, and his 
use of tobacco, are not ordinary indulgences. Yet without 
the tastes, habits, and gratifications of civilized life, or any 
of its expenses, the Laplander, with the above capital, is in 
poverty, and destitute of an assured subsistence. This shows 
the feal expense of that half-savage life which, from the ac- 
counts of emigrants and travellers in America, we are apt 
to suppose '.t the least costly of any, because it has neithet 
comforts nor luxuries to pay for, and produces what it eon - 
sumes. The Laplanders condition is the beau-ideal of thai 
sort of life. Five shillings would undoubtedly purchase all 
that he uses in a year of those articles which are not indis- 
pensably necessary for existence; yet a capital which, viia 
their own labour, would maintain three families in the en- 
joyment of the comforts and decencies of civilized life, ac- 
cording to their station, does not keep him from positive 
want. The Laplander, who possesses a thousand or more 
reindeer, and who is consequently a man of considerable 
property, lives in the same way as the poorest, enjoys nc 
more of the luxuries of life, and has no higher tastes oi 
habits to gratify. It is said that very considerable portion* 
of the silver currency of the country are lost, in consequence 
of this class of Laplanders hoarding from generation to g*v 
neration all the money they obtain by the sale of their sur 
plus produce ; and that the spot in the " Fjelde" where *H| 
treasure is buried often cannot be discovered by the hem 
— Laing's Journal of a Residence in Norway. " _ *t - £ 
* The dollar is valued at 3*. \0<L * * Si "<* 



Printed by William Clowm and Sons, 

Digitized by 




Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[March 31, 1838. 

BARRY'S PICTURES.— IV. Thb Victors at Olympia. 

[Concluded bum No. 383.] 

[The Victora at Olympia.] 

Gibbon says, " Impartial taste must prefer a Gothic tour- 
nament to the Olympic games of classic antiquity." The 
remark, and the comparison with which it is 4 accom- 
panied, seem beneath the historian's usual largeness of 
view. As mere spectacles, the advantage may, in some 
respects, be given to the tournament. But the tourna- 
ment of the Middle Ages was but an embellishment, while 
the games of the Greeks were interwoven with their reli- 
gion, laws, literature, art, feelings, and customs. They 
constituted for many centuries the heart of their national 
existence. They were the sustainers and propagators of 
their mythology ; they inspired them with ardour for 
glory and renown; they enabled their artists to catch 
almost all those endless graces of form and attitude which 
moderns cannot surpass, and can scarcely equal; and 
they created some of the noblest strains of their poetry. 
The Olympic games, as we have already mentioned, were 
not only the oldest, the most venerated, but the most 
universal. The most remarkable of the others were, the 
Pythian, instituted in honour of Apollo; the Nemean, 
probably so called from Nemea, a town of Argolis, with 
a wood, in which Hercules is fabled to have killed a lion ; 
and the Isthmian, so named from the scene of their cele- 
bration, the isthmus of Corinth. The Olympic games 
Vol, VII. 

were dedicated to Jupiter, the Pythian to Apollo, the Ne- 
mean to Hercules, and the Isthmian to Neptune. 

By a reference to the outline of the " Victors at Olym- 
pia," given in the previous Number, the reader will see 
that the picture contains two principal groups of figures, 
in addition to the minor details. We have given one 
group, and the wood-cut at the head of this article ex- 
hibits the chief figures in the Becond, including the por- 
trait of Barry himself. In this group the prince of the 
lyric poets of Greece is introduced as singing one of his 
odes to the lyre, accompanied by a chorus. 

Pindar flourished about 2300 years ago, having been 
born about the year 520 b.c, and is supposed to have died 
about 446 b.c, though the precise period is uncertain. 
He was a cotemporary of iEschylus, lived in the period 
signalised by the battles of Marathon and Salamis, and 
was an old man when Pericles was young. He is said 
to have received instructions from Simonides of Ceos, in 
his time the most celebrated lyric poet of Greece, and 
also from the far-famed Corinna, *' against whom, how- 
ever, when a competitor for the prize, it was his fate to 
be adjudged inferior in no fewer than five contests. But 
this perhaps is as much to be attributed to the personal 
charms of his fair rival as to her poetical superiority : 

Digitized by 




[Makch 31, 

since in the other Grecian assemblies, which did not allow 
of female competitors, he was almost invariably declared 

It must appear somewhat humiliating to those who re- 
gard genius as a spontaneous creator, and as soaring above 
all the lower inducements of money, to learn that Pindav, 
like the other lyric bards of Greece, produced his odes 
on the same principle that a barrister undertakes a cause 
and makes a speech — for a fee. But to chant the praises 
of victors in the games was his profession, and his genius 
had its settled reward, just as the time, learning, ano! 
ability of a lawyer are now entitled to pecuniary consi- 
deration. His fame, too, enabled him to 6et a value on 
his services, and to claim a corresponding payment. The 
friends of a victor in the Nemean games wished to have 
an ode from Pindar to celebrate his triumph, but they 
grudged the poet's terms, three drachmae (about ten 
pounds), asserting that they could get a statue for the 
same money. But considering, as Cowley paraphrases 
Horace, that Pindar was able "to carve in polished verse 
the conqueror's image," and to record his fame " in 
words worth dying for," they changed their minds, and 
paid the poet his fee. Pindar constructed an ode for 
them, but he took care to rebuke their narrow-minded 
want of appreciation of his genius. He commences with 
letting them know that his is " no statuary's fame," and 
that his art is a nobler and subtler thing than that which 
" constructs the mimic frame," which, instead of being 
able, like a poem, to waft the victor's triumph over 
Greece, is doomed to " stand for ever on the self-same 
base." Having administered his rebuke, he rouses his 
muse : — 

" Leave, sweet song, j^Sgina's port, 
On long-decked ships and cutters short, 
To tell that Lampu's mighty son, 
Pytheas, the Nemean crown hath won."* 

Pindar has been translated into English by men 
combining the qualifications of the scholar and the poet, 
such as Cowley, West, Heber, &c. But there are great 
difficulties in tne way of the enjoyment of Pindar by the 
English reader, arising from the language, the structure 
of the verse, the classical allusions, and the feelings of 
the Greeks, to whom, next to a triumph in the games, an 
ode by an illustrious poet, celebrating that triumph, was 
a source of intense gratification, beyond what we can 
rightly understand. In the absence of our modes of 
transmitting intelligence, or spreading the fame of a 
celebrated man, in a printed book, the words sung to 
delightful music sunk into the memory, and were carried 
to all quarters. Pindar's Ode addressed to Diagoras the 
Rhodiah (he whom Barry has introduced into his picture 
borne on the shoulders of his sons), on his victory with 
the csestus (boxing with a loaded glove made of a raw 
hide lined with metal), was said to have been written in 
letters of gold, and suspended in the temple of Minerva. 

From the " Victors of Olympia," Barry, in this series 
of pictures, passes to " Navigation, or the triumph of the 
Thames." this picture of the Thames, as a type of 
Britain, is a failure, though, as a picture, it has its 
merits, ft is an incongruous combination of allegorical 
figures. The description says that " the artist has in 
this picture represented the Thames of a venerable, ma- 
jestic, and gracious aspect, sitting on the waters in a 
triumphant car, steering himself with one hand, and 
holding in the 'other the mariner's compass, by the use 
of which modern navigation connects places the most 
remote, and has arrived at a certainty, importance, and 
magnitude, unknown to the antient world. The Car is 
borne along by our great navigators, Sir Francis Drake, 
Sir Walter Raleigh, Sebastian Cabot, and the late Cap- 
tain Cook. In the front of the car, and apparently in the 
action of meeting it, are four figures, representing Europe, 

* f indar, translate^ by the Re?. C. A. Wheelwright, 

Asia, Africa, and America, ready to lay their several 
productions in the lap of the Thames. 

" The supplicating action of the poor negro Slave, or 
more properly of enslaved Africa, the cord round his 
neck, the tear on his cheek; the iron* manacles and at- 
tached heavy chain on his wrists, with his hands clasped 
and stretched out for mercy, denote the agony of his soul, 
and the feelings of the artist were thus expressed, before 
the abolition of slavery became an object of public in- 

" Oyer head is Mercury, the emblem of commerce, 
summoning the nations together ; and following the car 
are Nereids carrying several articles of the principal 
manufactures of Great Britain. The sportive appearance 
of some of these Nereids gives a variety to the picture, 
and is intended to show that an extensive commerce is 
sometimes found subversive of the foundation of virtue." 
In this latter observation the reader will remark one of 
Barry's crotchets. The description goes on: — 

"In this scene of triumph and joy, the artist has in- 
troduced music, and, for this reason, has placed among 
the Sea-Nymphs hjs friend Dr. Burney, whose abilities 
in that line are universally acknowledged. 

" In the distance is a view of the Chalky Cliffs on the 
English coast, with ships sailing, highly characteristic of 
the commerce of this country, which the picture is in- 
tended to record. In fhe end of this picture, next the 
chimney, there is a Ijaval Pillar, Mausoleum, Observa- 
tory, and Lignthouse, all of Which are comprehended in 
t)ie same structure, and which, by a flight of imagination, 
the Tritons, or Sea-Gods, themselves appear to have 
erected as a compliment to the first Naval Power." 

'The chief ment of the fifth picture in tfre series con- 
sists in its containing a number of portraits of dis- 
tinguished individuals, Barry's cotemporaries, and who 
were members or supporters of the Society for the En- 
couragement of Arts and Manufactures. It represents 
an annual distribution of the Society's prizes. 

The wandering habits and separate existence of die 
Gipsies, though a singular phenomenon, seem quite capa- 
ble of explanation by a reference to the power of habit or 
association. And if, as seems to be satisfactorily enough 
ascertained, their origin is Indian, the structure of Hin- 
doo society (its perpetuation, from age to age, of the 
same moral and physical characters, — its castes and 
social prejudices) plainly points to the fountain-head of 
European Gipsy ism. For if the first generation who 
came to Europe were Indian in birth and character, they 
must necessarily have transmitted a portion of their cha- 
racteristics to their children ; and the aversion, hatred, 
and contempt with which their descendants were treated, 
togetber*with the charm of a wandering life, are quite 
sufficient to have kept them a separate people. Repeated 
instances have occurred in this country of young persona 
having been carried off by the Gipsies, and brought up 
with them during youth ; and they have proved very hard 
to reclaim in atter-life. We all know, too, how the 
grown-up savage, even amid the comforts of civilization, 
looks back to his woods. We have some striking exem- 
plifications of the power of habit or association in a book 
recently published, { The Persian Princes in London.' 
There we find a learned Persian, who, as he says himself, 
has been assimilating to our customs and habits for 
years, and having his taste elevated and refined by inter- 
course with the more polished classes of English society, 
listening almost in ecstasy to most execrable sounds, pro- 
duced from a rude instrument, because they broke down, 
as it were, time and space, and carried him back to his 
home and the days of his youth. 

It scarcely seems necessary to re-afBrm that the 
Qipsies were uot in Europe before the beginning of the 
15th century, an4 that they are of Oriental origin. The 

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evidence by whicn both of these affirmations is supported 
seems almost to place them beyond dispute. In India 
they are numerous, and, allo\-/ing for differences of country 
and climate, exhibit precisely the same qualities as our 
European Gipsies ; they are more uncleanly than the 
ordinary Hindoos, and devour all kinds of food, even the 
dead bodies of jackals, bullocks, and horses. 

The Gipsies, on first appearing in Europe, evinced 
considerable Hindoo craft in the stories which they pro- 
pagated respecting themselves. Their passive subtlety, 
their careful avoidance of active violence, and their 
treacherous dexterity, are all strongly marked. The fol- 
lowing song, in which a juggler describes his feats, will 
apply equally well to the performances of the Gipsy, 
whether in the East or the West : — 

" I from lovers tokens bear, 

1 can flowery chapleta weave, 
Amorout belts can well prepare, 

And with courteous speech deceive 
Joint-stool feats to show I'm able, 

1 can make the beetle run 
All alive upon the table, 

When I show delightful fun. 
At my slight-of-hana you'll laugh, 

At my magic you will stare ; 
I can play at quarter-staff; 

I can knives suspend in air; 
I enchantment strange devise, 
And with cord and sling surprise."* 

Pasquier, in his * Recherches Historiques,' says that 
the Gipsies first appeared at Paris in the character of 
penitents, or pilgrims, in August, 1427, in a troop of 
more than 100, under some chiefs who styled themselves 
counts, and that they represented themselves as Chris- 
tians driven out of Egypt by the Mussulmans. They 
obtained permission to remain in the kingdom, where 
they wandered about in all directions, unmolested for 
many years, committing petty depredations, and their 
women assuming the calling of fortune-tellers. In 1560 
an ordonnance of the states of Orleans enjoined all im- 
postors and vagabonds styled " Bohemians" or " Egyp- 
tians" to quit the kingdom under pain of the galleys. 
The name of Bohemians, given to them by the French, 
may be derived from some of them having come to 
France from Bohemia, for they are mentioned as having 
appeared in various parts of Germany previous to their 
entering France, while others derive it from " Boem," 
un old French word signifying a sorcerer. The reader 
will recollect that Sir Walter Scott introduces the Bohe- 
mians into his novel of ' Quentin Durward,' as some- 
times becoming useful tools to their oppressors, and at 
other times being hung up, as if they were dogs, to the 
first tree. The Germans gave them the name of " Zi- 
geufter," or wanderers ; the Dutch called them " Heiden, " 
0r heathens ; the Danes and Swedes "Tartars." In Italy 
they are called " Zingari ;" in Turkey and the Levant 
•^Tchingenes ;" in Spain they are called " Gitanos ;" in 
^Hungary and Transylvania, where they are very nume- 
rous, they are called " Pharoah Nepek," or " Pharoah's 
people." The notion of their being Egyptians is probably 
derived from the circumstance that many of them came 
immediately from Egypt into Europe, but their appear- 
ance, manners, and language are totally different from 
those of either the Copts or Fellahs. There are many 

S'psies now in Egypt, but they are looked upon as 
rangers, as indeed they are everywhere else. Every- 
where they exhibit the same roving habits, a dislike to a 
fixed settlement and to the arts of husbandry, uncleau- 
jbess in their food, licentiousness, ignorance ana intellec- 
tual apathy, a disposition to pilfer, and to impose on the 
icreduuty of others. They seldom commit violent rob- 
4bery or other heinous crimes, being fearful of punish- 

Seut. Maria Theresa and the Emperor Joseph ordered 
ose in the different states of the Austrian empire to be 
Instructed in agriculture, with a view to their permanent 
*? • * The Hindoos ; ' Library of Entertaining Knowledge.' 

settlement ; but me attempt "was not very successful. 
In Hungary and Transylvania, however, many of them 
follow some regular trade, and have fixed habitations ; 
they wash gold from the sand of the rivers, they work 
iron or copper ; some are carpenters and turners, others 
are horse-dealers, and even keep wine-shops or public 
houses. They abound in Wallachia, Moldavia, and Bes- 
sarabia, and they are found in Russia as far as Tobolsk. 

The first person who devoted himself to the work of 
gathering satisfactory materials for a general history and 
description of the Gipsies, was the learned H. M. G. 
Grellman, who, in his ' Versuch iiber die Zigeuner,' Got- 
tingen, 1787, translated into English by M. Raper, esq., 
conjectures them to be between 700,000 and 800,000 in 
Europe, of whom 40,000 are in Spain, chiefly in the 
southern provinces. 

In the notice of the English Gipsies, it was stated that 
Mr. John Hoyland had collected the most accurate 
information that could be procured concerning this strange 
race, in his ' Historical Survey of the Customs, Habits, 
and present State of the Gipsies ; designed to develop 
the Origin of this Singular People, and to promote the 
Amelioration of their Condition,' 8vo., York, 1816. He 
has largely made use of the work of Grellman. 

Tab naval history of Great Britain is divisible into three 
periods: — 

1. Its nonage, from Alfred to Henry VIII. The his- 
tory of our navy commences with Alfred, so that for " a 
thousand years" our flag has " braved the battle and the 
breeze." But this period was one of weakness, slow pro- 
gression, and fluctuation ; a royal navy, if it can be said 
to have existed, was in a mere rudimentary state ; ships 
were comparatively little floating tubs ; navigation was 
not an art, for science had scarcely dawned upon it ; and 
naval tactics were unknown. But commerce, the right- 
arm of Britain's strength, was growing inlo importance, 
and preparing the way for our maritime power and 

2. Its youth and manhood, from the commencement 
of the reign of Henry VIH., or rather from the middle of 
his father's .reign, to the close of the last war. During 
this period ships grew up from the galley to the man-of- 
war; ship-building and navigation, instead of being rude 
and uncertain things, in which chance and blind daring 
took the place of skill and forethought, became processes 
gradually combining the abstrusest speculations of ma- 
thematical science with the most dextrous efforts of me- 
chanical ingenuity. Greenwich Observatory was built; 
the stars were numbered, for the purpose of tracking 
highways through the "pathless" ocean; and at last a 
ship of war becomes a fabric- so complicated, that to 
to understand its history, construction, and management 
requires that a man should be master of a vast held of 
human knowledge. 

3. The third period has but little more than begun to 
run its course. It is hazardous to prophesy. But we 
have yet to reap the full fruits of that science Which 
Copernicus and Tycho Brahe, Newton and La Place, 
have established. The present period in the history of 
our navigation is already marked by . some striking 
results. Lemon-juice, iron-tanks, and cleanliness have 
banished that dreadful pest the scurvy from our navy; so 
apparently insignificant a thing as a block for working a 
ship's rigging has produced one of our wonders of modem 
mechanical ingenuity ; and now it seems as if corrosive 
sublimate were about to abolish the dry-rot. What steam 
may yet do, and what secrets in combustion are yet to be 
discovered, remain for the future. 

Each aera has also its moral characteristics. Though 
the northern marauders, to oppose whom Alfred created 
a navy and improved the style of ship- building, were 
led to venture on their perilous expeditions by precisely 

V- Q2| 
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[March 31, 

[Ships of the Time ol Richard II. 

the same motives that led our bold buccaneers to the 
" Spanish Main," we cannot say that there existed a 
maritime spirit in England during the first period of our 
naval history. The " wooden walls" were but lightly 
esteemed. Commerce drew out hardy seamen to venture 
on distant voyages in their floating-baskets: but war 
sought almost all its glory on the land. Ships were more 
regarded as useful bridges across the Channel, than as 
fields on which renown might be gained. 

But the second sera is that in which lies nearly all that 
makes us proud of the sea. . At. first a cry arose that new 
worlds were to be found, and men hastened across the 
vast ocearr^in their barges to share in the discoveries. 
Then, when the fairest portions of these new lands had 
been occupied by those who employed their wealth in a 
great attempt to invade the free soil of England, it was 
deemed but common justice to reach across the sea, and 
smite our enemy where he was least prepared for the 
retaliation. Thus glory and plunder led our privateers 
abroad ; the morality of the practice was little heeded ; 
our brave men came back from their distant expeditions 
with light hearts and heavy purses, having left behind 
them tokens of their visitations to Spanish settlements in 
smoking ruins. When they perished, as many did, it 
was sung of them, as of Drake — 

'< The waves became their winding-sheet, 

The waters were their tomb, 
But for their fame the ocean sea 

Was not sufficient room." 

' But from the time of Cromwell a nobler spirit began 
to operate. We then commenced to build on the un- 
stable element of the sea a nobler empire than ever Rome 
beheld. This empire was commerce — not only had it to 
be acquired, but defended. Enormous resources, daunt- 
less courage, hard-won experience, were all brought to 
the work of defending and extending this empire ; and 
to this day any account of the deeds performed and the 
victories won in this cause will always find an applaud- 
ing audience. 

There is however clearly a change in this third cera of 
our naval history — a change, we think, not for the worse 
but for the better. Men are still men — a new naval 
victory would still stir all British hearts, and its report 
would be as the sound of a trumpet over the land. But 

latterly naval officers have had to seek for fame in 
another direction than that of war. There is no lack of 
courage, no want of energy ; but science has claimed 
them. Such men as Franklin, Parry, and Back, have 
carried out the practice of those principles taught by 
Cook, and have shown in discovery, what was the crown- 
ing glory of Nelson in war, that the most unshaken reso- 
lution, the most undaunted perseverance, may be com- 
bined with the calmest forethought and the gentlest 
humanity. The spirit which delights in fighting for 
its own sake is becoming obsolete — the public mind 
leans strongly in the direction, not of war with or with- 
out a reason, but war if it be necessary, but not unless it 
be. And this, of itself, would give rise to a fear that the 
pacific spirit stealing over the mind of the public might 
cripple the naval prowess of the country — that the blunt, 
fearless courage of the British sailor,' that uncalculating 
assurance which leaped for joy at the bare sight of an 
enemy's flag, might ooze away, leaving only a cold cau- 
tious spirit, which would carefully count all chances before 
it fights. But it is only when refinement lacks the salt 
of moral intelligence that a country loses its courage. It 
is only when the higher classes become luxurious and 
enervated^ and the lower classes brutalized and deprived 
of motive, that the sceptre of dominion drops from the 
hands of a kingdom. Such is not the tendency of Eng- 
lish civilization. In spite of many obstructions, its great 
object is to lift up the lower classes ; to make them feel 
that they are men, that their country is their home, that 
intelligent liberty is a thing most dear to the heart that 
understands it. The upper classes are certainly not 
retrograding in intelligence and activity. Our commerce 
is our naval thermometer ; if we see it decay, then, but 
not till then, may we fear that our " wooden walls'* are 

Properly speaking, those was no Royal Navy till the 
time of Henry VIII. William the Conqueror had a 
great fleet when he invaded England — for fleets in antient 
times were counted by hundreds and thousands. Almost 
all the more energetic kings of the Norman line had 
vessels of their own, which they maintained at their own 
expense ; but as a fleet was intended not for fighting but 
for transport, the usual course was to obtain a number of 
vessels on any* emergency, by requisition, hiring, and imw 

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pressment. TJJie first fleet that ever left the shores of 
England on a foreign expedition was that of Richard I. 
for the Holy Land ; the first naval battle between France 

[Ships of War of the Fifteenth Century.— Hart. MS. 4375.] 

and England was fought and Won by John, with a fleet 
of 500 vessels. The spoils obtained in this victory are 
termed, in the ' Pictorial History of England,* " the first- 
fruits of that maritime superiority for which the church- 
bells of this glorious island have so often pealed for joy." 
The Cinque Ports were required to furnish a certain 
number of vessels each, when a fleet happened to be 
wanted : but no great ceremony was observed, at times, 
in appropriating such merchant vessels as were in the 
way. When Henry III., in 1253, ordered all the vessels 
in the country to be seized and employed in an expedi- 
tion against the rebels of Gascony, the number of them 
is stated, on the authority of Matthew Paris, to have been 
above a thousand, of which three hundred were considered 
as large ships. " According to an account given in one of 
the Cotton manuscripts of the fleet employed by Edward 
III. at the siege of Calais, in 1346, it consisted of 25 
ships belonging to the king, which carried 419 mari- 
ners ; 37 foreign ships, manned by 780 mariners ; of 
one vessel from Ireland, carrying 25 men; and of 710 
vessels belonging to English ports, the crews of which 
amounted to 14,151 persons. These merchantmen were 
divided into the north and the south fleet, according as 
they belonged to the ports north or south of the 
Thames." The principal ports, and the number of ships 
and men supplied by each, are mentioned — London sup- 
plied 25 ships, with 662 men. 

[To be continued.] 


A foreigner who visits Venice is generally conducted 
to the island of San Lazaro, as one of the objects of cu- 
riosity about the city. It must be remembered that 
Venice itself is an island, placed in a lagoon, or shallow 
lake, twenty miles long, and five or six in breadth. The 
city is about midway between the mainland and the sea, 
which is prevented from entering the lagoon by the two 
islands of Malamocco and Palestrina, each about nine 
miles long, with less than half a mile average breadth ; 
they are strengthened in their whole extent by massive 
walla, without whose support the sea would probably 
wash them away, and convert the lagoon into a quick- 
sand. The lagoon has a great number of islands upon 
it, dotted about like villas or gardens in the neighbour- 
hood of other large towns ; they are all quite flat, and 
appear at first sight something like coffer dams, such aa 

are constructed for the purpose of building bridges. 
Many of them, however, are covered with houses, and 
some have gardens and trees upon them, which, in the 
absence of anything else visible, make them pretty objects 
on a near approach ; and towards the close of a hot day, 
when the sun is sinking behind the city, and the towers 
of Venice are painted in distinct outline upon the distant 
Paduan hills, a row in a gondola among these insular 
villas is most delightful. 

San Lazaro is one of the smallest islands ; it is nearly 
two miles south of the city. In the twelfth century it 
was a hospital for lepers, from whom it received its 
name, in allusion to Lazarus of the parable, like Laza- 
retto, Lazzarone, and perhaps one or two more words 
connected with poverty or disease. When the leprosy 
disappeared from Europe, the island was converted to a 

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[March 31, 

receptacle for the poor ; but in course of time its distance 
from Venice was found to be productive of so much in- 
convenience, that the paupers were removed to the city, 
and the place abandoned ; until, in the year 1717, it re- 
ceived a colony of Armenians, who had been driven out 
of the Morea in consequence of the war between the 
Turks and the Venetians. These persons were under the 
guidance of an Aimenian ecclesiastic, who had long been 
endeavouring to establish a literary society, first in his 
own country, and afterwards in Constantinople and the 
Morea, but who had been defeated in all his attempts. 
Mechitar, as this enlightened man was named, succeeded 
in obtaining from the Venetian senate a grant of the 
island of San Lazaro, where he planted his little com- 
munity ; and this secluded body has continued to flourish 
until the present time, in spite of the extraordinary revo- 
lutions which have destroyed the authority which first 
gave it an asylum. 

The progress of Mechitar is one of the many examples 
of the power of a firm resolution to overcome obstacles 
which at first appear unconquerable. Native of an igno- 
rant and enslaved nation, receiving very little instruction, 
and having no books from which it could be obtained, 
Mechitar succeeded, notwithstanding the opposition of 
jealous ignorance and religious prejudice, in diffusing 
among his countrymen a desire for knowledge, which he 
contributed to satisfy by educating their youth, and by 
translating and printing books for their use. He gave 
the fir3t impulse in recent times to that literary taste 
which has placed the Armenians in a very respectable 
rank among the nations of Asia. Mechitar was born at 
Sebaste in Asia Minor, in the year 1676 ; he learned to 
read and write, and was ordained deacon at the age of 
fifteen. His reading was confined to a few ascetic works 
which he found in his convent, and he employed himself 
occasionally in composing hymns and homilies ; but he 
soon found that any general knowledge was to be sought 
elsewhere. He therefore determined to proceed to Etch- 
miadzin, the residence of the patriarch of Armenia. On 
his way he saw, at Erzerum, a European missionary, from 
whose conversation he derived some idea of what was to 
be learned in Europe, and conceived a great desire of going 
to that distant region. At Etchmiadzin, called by the Ar- 
menians " the seat of all knowledge," he found knowledge 
to be as rare as at Sebaste, and consequently determined to 
return. On his way home he was introduced to an Arme- 
nian gentleman who had long resided in Europe, and 
who delighted and surprised Mechitar with his various 
acquirements. This greatly increased the desire he had 
conceived of visiting Europe, and he soon had what ap- 
peared to be a favourable opportunity of putting his pro- 
ject into execution. A friend and native of Sebaste was 
about to undertake a journey to Jerusalem, for the pur- 
pose of applying himself to study, and this friend he de- 
termined to accompany as far as Aleppo, where he should 
be much nearer to Europe than at Sebaste, and might 
more easily find an opportunity of proceeding thither. 
He did not get so far without an adventure : his horse 
fell in crossing the river which passes through Malatieh 
to join the Euphrates ; Mechitar saved himself, but lost 
his horse, and, what he prized more, all his writings. At 
Aleppo he conversed with several missionaries resident 
there, who gave him letters of introduction to persons in 
Italy. He then declared his intention to his companion, 
and easily persuaded him to embark for Europe instead 
of proceeding to Jerusalem. They sailed together from 
Scanderoon ; but on their arrival at Cyprus Mechitar 
was seized with a violent fever, and compelled to remain 
in the island. He slowly recovered, and found it advis- 
able to return to his native town, where his friends had 
given him up as dead. 

The ardent desire for knowledge, which had led him 
at the early age of nineteen to embark on so distant a 
voyage, could not long be restrained. He stayed a year 

or two at Sebaste, emploving his time in teaching, and in 
writing educational treatises ; but he did not neglect his 
favounte scheme. He tried every means to iuduce the bishop 
of his diocese to unite with him in forming a literary so- 
ciety ; but the innovation was too great, and the bishop 
was afraid of encountering opposition. He determined 
at last to proceed to Constantinople, where several of the 
more enlightened among his countrymen resided, and 
where he hoped that he should find some countenance in 
his undertaking, or that at least he should not encounter 
opposition. He found three of his pupils willing to go 
with him : the little society set out, and reached Con- 
stantinople in the year 1700. 

Here he began to execute the long cherished plan; 
some success attended his first efforts; but he was obliged 
to live in a very retired manner, and to teach his pupils 
under the pretext of exercising some handicraft ; not, as 
it appears, from any fear of the Turks, but from the per- 
secution of his own countrymen, of the national church, 
who hated Mechitar because he was a Catholic. Here 
Mechitar translated Thomas a Kempis into the Armenian 
language and printed it himself. Tlie persecution against 
him increased : he put himself under the protection of 
the French ambassador, but was at last compelled to 
seek an asylum elsewhere. The Morea was then subject to 
Venetian rule, and there the little society, which now con- 
sisted of eight members, determined to fix themselves; 
but the education of the people seemed to the Armenians 
a matter so fraught with danger, that every opposition 
was offered, and their escape from Constantinople was 
effected separately and in disguise. After wandering 
about and secreting themselves nearly two years, the 
whole party arrived at Nauplia by circuitous routes in 
1703; their pecuniary means, it may be supposed, were 
scanty, as Mechitar at his departure could notT muster 
more than 40/. They were well received by the Vene- 
tian government, who gave them a spot in the town of 
Modon for the erection of a church and convent, and 
assigned the revenues of two villages for their mainte- 

After much delay and many difficulties, the buildings 
were completed, the society increased, and the prospect 
began to brighten. But the gleam of prosperity was of 
short duration : the war broke out between the Turks 
and Venetians which ended in the loss of the Morea ; 
Mechitar was forced to leave the spot in which his plans 
had begun to succeed, and was at once brought again to 
his original poverty.* He reached Venice with eleven 
followers, and about twelve pounds in money; others 
made their escape afterwards, and the remainder were 
sold into slavery ; but all subsequently reached Venice. 

The departure of Mechitar from Modon was in 1715. 
He was well received by the Venetian government, and 
after some delays received from the senate a perpetual 
grant of the island of San Lazaro. Here he found an 
old church, some ruined habitations, and a garden ; and 
in this spot he fixed liis little community, repairing the 
dwellings as well as his means allowed, and dividing 
them into cells for the residence of the members. He 
established a school on the island, which prospered ; and 
in process of time, with the aid of some of the more 
enlightened individuals of his nation, he restored the 
church, built a regular monastery, and fitted, up an exten- 
sive library. The work was completed in the year 1740. 
Mechitar lived after this nine years, and reckoned about 
a hundred disciples, many of whom have since contri- 
buted to the respectable state of literature which the Ar- 
menian nation nas attained — very humble, it is true, 
compared with that of the principal European nations, 
but certainly equal to that oi some of them, and superior 
to most of those of Asia. He died April 27, 1749, and 
was buried in the church, where his portrait is preserved. 

* He frequently asserted that the flight from the Morea wai far 
more distressing to hu feeUngt than that from Constantinople, 

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The character of Mechitar appears to have been singu- 
larly mild, and an anecdote is related of him which 
reminds the reader of Themistocles under similar circum- 
stances. He was engaged in a dispute concerning some 
doctrinal points which was warmly carried on ; and his 
opponent was so enraged at the force of the arguments 
used against him, that he struck Mechitar a violent blow 
on the face. Mechitar calmly advised his adversary to 
enforce his cause by arguments and not by blows, and so 
steadily convinced him of his fault, that he begged for- 
giveness, and admitted that he was in the wrong. 

The plan of Mechitar was to receive none but youths 
of good ability, without reference to their condition in 
life ; and such as afterwards proved deficient in talent 
he dismissed. He admitted only Armenians : and to the 
care taken by him is attributed the purity of the lan- 
guage spoken on the island, where it is unmixed with the 
Persian, Turkish, and Russian terms which have crept 
into the language of such as reside near those countries. 
His mode of teaching was on the whole judicious, though, 
as most of his pupils were destined to the ecclesiastical 
state, it was too monastic for general use. But he did 
not confine himself to teaching : he imported types from 
Holland, and printed a copious vocabulary of the Arme- 
nian language, of his own composition, a fine edition of 
the Bible, and some other works. Not finding the 
Dutch types sufficient for his purpose, he engraved an4 
cast a new fount of characters himself. The printing of 
useful works continued after his death; in 1789 a large 
printing-office was built in the convent, and a regular 
weekly journal is printed there, and from thence circu- 
lated throughout the East. Among the works printed by 
the society we may enumerate treatises on history, geo- 
graphy with maps, geometry, trigonometry, navigation, 
arithmetic, and book-keeping ; one work on painting ; 
translations of Milton, Gesner, St. Pierre, and Young; 
Rollin's * Antient History;' Esop's « Fables;' ' Robin- 
son Crusoe ;' and some valuable and antient translations 
of Greek authors, jf which the originals have long been 
lost ; grammars and dictionaries of the English, French, 
and Italian languages, and many religious works. 

The Armenian society remained undisturbed when all 
other monastic institutions were suppressed; the unas- 
suming nature of its foundation, and the useful objects 
contemplated by it, were peculiar features which gave it 
a claim to exemption from the general destruction. It 
has generally prospered since the peace ; several bene- 
factions have been made to it, as well in money as in 
valuable paintings and philosophic apparatus adapted to 
the instruction of students. It is now enabled to afford 
gratuitous maintenance and education to a considerable 
number of Armenian youths, and although it does not 
admit foreigners to its society, it allows them to receive 
instruction from the professors established there. 

ERASMUS IN ENGLAND.—No. V.- [Concluded.] 
In a letter of March, 1524, Erasmus relates several 
anecdotes of deceased friends, and, among others, the 
following of Colet, who died in 1519, at the age of fifty- 
three : — " John Colet was on bad terms with an uncle, a 
very old man of peevish temper. But there was some- 
thing more substantial than ill humour in the case, 
namely, a pretty round sum of money ; and money is 
cause enough to make a son go to war with his father. 
Colet was invited to dine with the Archbishop of Canter- 
bury (Warham), and took me with him in his boat. 
In our passage, he was reading the remedy against 
anger, out of my * Enchiridion ;* but without telling me 
why he read it. At table, Colet happened to sit opposite 
his uncle, looking very demure, neither talking nor 
eating. Now the Archbishop had a great deal of tact ; 
and if he saw that mirth or conversation flagged, by 
talking alternately to each visitor, and introducing plea- 
sant topics, fce generally succeeded in restoring the tone 

of the company. On the present occasion he turned the 
discourse to the comparison of ages. This set even the 
dumb to chatter. The uncle, after the manner of old 
men, began boasting that, notwithstanding his years, he 
was strong enoughs to lay a younker in his grave. The 
ice being thus broken, when dinner was over the uncle 
and nephew got into a corner by themselves. As we 
were going home in the boat, Colet said, ' I see, Erasmus, 
what a happy fellow you are.' I was astonished at his 
calling the most unfortunate and miserable of the human 
race happy. But he told me what a savage temper 
he had been in with his uncle ; and had nearly deter- 
mined to break through all the barriers of Christian 
modesty, and make a dead set at the old gentleman. 
But on second thoughts, he threw my ' Enchiridion' into 
the boat, to try if it was an antidote to intemperate 
passion ; and the prescription answered the purpose of 
the physician. * After the little encounter at dinner, the 
Archbishop threw us together, interposed his good offices, 
and now all is right between us.' " 

Under the date of 1525 we shall throw together a few 
remarks made by Erasmus at different times, respecting 
the Sudor Britannicus y or sweating-sickness. The sub- 
ject is not pleasant, and happily it is exploded ; but it 
has sent a substitute in the cholera, and is therefore not 
uninteresting to modern times. c< England knew nothing 
of this deadly sweat till thirty years ago, and hitherto it 
has not transgressed the boundaries of that island. 
Maladies of this kind have their own tracts of country, 
their own intervals of arrival, their own selection of indi- 
vidual subjects, and even of individual limbs. But the 
distempers of the mind spare neither rank, nor sex, nor 
age ; they overleap all boundaries, and range through the 
world with incredible swiftness : cough, consumption, 
and plague come one after the other ; but the bad pas- 
sions make common cause, and each is a handle to some 
other. " 

In 1530 he writes thus querulously : " No peace, no 
safe travelling ; dearness of provisions, poverty, famine, 
pestilence everywhere ; universal ' divisions into sects. 
Add to such a hydra of ^vils the deadly sweat, which 
carries off its victims in eight hours ; and frequently 
those who recover relapse in a short time, and that not 
once, but twice, thrice, four times, till it turns into dropsy 
or some other effectual destroyer. But though so often 
stricken, mankind take no warning !" In the following 
year, he throws out a suggestion that men of the highest 
mental endowments are apt to be valetudinarians ; and 
then goes on to describe the new disease, which at first 
was peculiar to Britain, but had suddenly spread itself 
into all nations. He says that at first it killed within 
twenty-four hours : (before he has allowed it only eight 
to do its work :) at first it attacked few, but frightened 
many ; so that fear and imagination invited the attacks : 
as it advanced, its visits were more general, but its fa- 
tality was diminished : (in this respect it resembled the 
cholera :) " at present the epidemic is too well known to 
the world at large; but scarcely any die of it, unlets 
through either the ignorance of physicians or the care- 
lessness of nurses." 

In 1527 he writes a letter of advice to a friend re- 
specting his conduct in a visit to England. "It will be 
a great thing for you to see Britain, so celebrated by all 
the learned ; and you may profit greatly in respect to 
polish of manners and good sense in general by your in- 
tercourse with the English nobility and so many learned 
men. But let not their singular condescension make you 
either negligent or impudent : humility on their part re- 
quires the more modesty on yours. The heroes of social 
intercourse do not always feel in their hearts what they 
profess by their looks. As formerly with the gods, so 
with men in high station, we must converse under the 
restraint of religious awe. The nation you are going to 
is not less liberal than Brabant is stingy ; but in re* 

Digitized by 




[March 31, 1838 

ceiving presents, remember an old proverb : Not every 
thing, nor everywhere, nor from all men. Accept of 
any voluntary offer from tried friends; but with the ex- 
pression as well as the feeling of gratitude. The offers 
of common-place or cold friends decline ; but do it civilly. 
More tact is required to decline a benefit properly, than 
to receive it properly. Some persons not worth having 
as friends are worth fearing as enemies, if their proffered 
kindness be bluntly refused. They infer either that the 
gift is despised for its niggardliness, or that they are per- 
sonally disliked ; you must tickle their self-love, but in 
very guarded terms. You cannot be afraid of the Straits 
of Dover : a native of Amsterdam is an amphibious ani- 
mal. The passage is troublesome and expensive; but 
short, and not infamous for shipwrecks. But greater 
danger will await you on your landing. You know the 
proverb, A beggar on horseback, which really means 
a Dutchman on horseback. But be of good cheer; the 
horses have more sense than you ; they know their way, 
and you had better not spur them ; only give them the 
rein ; they will not stop till their journey's end, and then 
will deliver you as if you were a bundle. You will get 
on very well with the people if you shake hands freely, 
give the upper seat at table, and have a smile for every 
one ; but trust no strangers. Above all things, take care 
not to censure or despise any individual thing in the 
country. The natives are very patriotic ; and truly not 
without reason. It is a fine country ; and we all think 
our own so. But some foreigners are so uncivil as to 
condemn what they are not accustomed to ; as some na- 
tions like no music but their own. Pray you avoid that. 
My cautions may perhaps be superfluous ; but the best 
memories are not the worse for a little jogging." 

The letters of 1535 are melancholy from the comme- 
moration of deceased friends, and lamentation over evil 
times ; but with frequent touches of his natural vivacity. 
" To lose bales of goods by shipwreck is a grievance; 
but what bale of goods can be compared with a sincere 
friend ? What weather then so bad as the present, which 
has deprived me of so many tried friends? Warham 
has been long dead : lately, Montjoy, the Bishop of 
Rochester, and Sir Thomas More." In another letter, 
he enters more into particulars : — " The English are 
frightened out of their senses. The report here is, that 
when the king heard that Bishop Fisher was created a 
cardinal by Paul the Third, he only ordered his execution 
so much the sooner. So there was a red hat for him ! 
(Fisher had been the religious adviser of Margaret, 
countess of Richmond, who established her foundations 
at Cambridge under his direction. Henry VII. made 
him bishop of Rochester, which see he occupied for 
thirty- three years. He was one of the most meri- 
torious persons on the anti-reforming side.) Sir Thomas 
More has been long in prison, and his property is con- 
fiscated. It ib said that he has been executed ; but as 
yet I have no certain information. I wish he had never 
meddled in such a dangerous business, but had left the 
cause of theology to theologians." (This letter was 
written before that last quoted.) 

Erasmus must considerably have altered his opinion 
concerning Henry from that which he gave while basking 
in the sunshine of his patronage, There was no resem- 
blance in general character between Henry VIII. and 
James I. : one thing however they had in common ; the 
affectation, not altogether without the reality, of learning. 
Example produced its usual effect on their respective 
reigns, and gave a tinge of pedantry to the habitual 
flattery of courtiers. Erasmus was too elegant a scholar 
and writer to be much of a pedant ; but he was courtier 
enough to be a good deal of a flatterer, in spite of reli- 
gion, and philosophy. We shall close our translations 
and abstracts with one of his panegyrics on Henry, with 
the addition of a passage illustrative of his own character, 
in his own conduct respecting the divorce. The letter 

from which the following passage is abstracted was 
written only six years before the decapitation of his 
friends. In it he claims credit to Henry for genuine au- 
thorship in his treatise and two epistles against Luther, 
admitting that, like other authors, he received communi- 
cations and assistance from his friends. "Hitherto it 
has been thought a prodigy, especially among the Ger- 
mans, that a prince should have any taste for letters. 
But his accomplishments and learning are to be attri- 
buted to a judicious education and his own studious 
habits. He had quick and lively parts, capable of at- 
taining any object on which he had set his mind ; whe- 
ther it were horsemanship or archery, music or mathe- 
matics, his facility was equally conspicuous. In his 
leisure hours he read or conversed, and in discussion 
was so calm and moderate, as to seem the familiar com- 
panion rather than the sovereign master. He prepared 
himself for these little conflicts by the reading of Thomas 
Aquinas, Duns Scotus, and other scholastic writers. His 
scholarship extended to Greek. Theological controversy 
was his favourite exercise, and Luther the favourite sub- 
ject of attack." If any of our readers should choose (but 
we think they had better not) to place more confidence in 
Erasmus than in general history, they will be inclined to 
set down Henry VIII. in the short list of pattern kiuge. 
Oh the subject of Queen Catharine's divorce, Erasmus 
takes the safe ground of neither * approving nor disap- 
proving. " No mian ever heard a syllable from me on 
the subject. I grieved indeed at heart that a prince 
whose good understanding with the emperor (Charles V.) 
was so necessary to the public welfare of Europe should 
have been entangled in such a labyrinth. But what 
rashness would it have been in me, or rather madness, if 
without a question being put to me, I had delivered an 
opinion on so delicate a subject, on which so many learned 
English bishops, and even Campegus, the apostolic le- 
gate, were reluctant to pass sentence ! 

" I had reason to be attached to the monarch, from ex- 
perience of his benevolence; although, from the first 
mooting of this question, I had received no favour at his 
hands beyond personal good-will. ' On many accounts I, 
in common with all good men, was and am attached to 
his inmate; and I cannot think that the king disliked 
her in his heart." (Inmate may seem a strange term in 
which to express the relation subsisting between Henry 
and Catharine; but it comes nearest to that equivocal 
Greek word, to be rendered either wife or concubine, in 
which the writer has prudently wrapped up the desig- 
nation.) ?' Besides, I am my own sovereign the em- 
peror's sworn counsellor ; and I should be a monster, 
either of folly or ingratitude, were I not mindful of my 
duty and obligations to him. No Toyal personage ever 
talked to me on the subject. Two years ago, two noble- 
men of the Imperial court pressed me to give an opinion 
on-this matter. My answer was, and that the true one, 
that I had never turned my attention to a subject on 
which men of the greatest authority and learning had for 
so many years hesitated. My wishes would be easily 
pronounced ; but to pronounce what divine or human law 
would decide, was a subject not only for the serious con- 
sideration of many days, but would demand a minute 
acquaintance with all the circumstances of the case." 
The most practised courtier could not have extricated 
himself more dexterously from so dangerous an embar- 

In extracting the foregoing specimens from this vast 
body of correspondence, our object has been two- fold : 
in the first place, to illustrate in some degree the state of 
England in the time of Henry VIII. and Erasmus ; in 
the second place, to exhibit nearly the most eminent 
scholar and theologian of a great eera in the undress of a 


Frintodby William Cmwjh u4 Sona» Stamford Stmt 

Digitized by 


4Konti)lg ^uppkment of 



Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 


February 28 to March 31, 183S. 


[ Tousiahit L'Ouverture, in the cottume of Commander of the Black Army of Hayti.— Copied from Raimfbrd.] 

It is an important question whether negroes are oon- 
iLtutionally, and therefore irremediably, inferior to whites 
in the powers of the mind. Much of the future welfare 
of the human race depends on the answer which experi- 
ence will furnish to this question ; for it concerns not 
only the Yast population of Africa, hut some millions of 
negroes who live elsewhere, and the whites who are be- 

coming mixed with the black race in countries where 
slavery exists, and where it has existed till lately. Many 
persons have ventured upon peremptory decisions on both 
rides of the question; but the majority are still unsatisfied 
as to the real capabilities of the negro race. Their actual 
inferiority of mind is too evident to be disputed ; but it 
may be accounted for by the circumstances amidst which 

Digitized by 




[March 31, 

negroes have lived, both in their own countries and 
abroad ; while, if one single instance can be adduced of 
a man of jet-black complexion who has exhibited a 
genius which would be considered eminent in civilized 
European society, we have at least a proof that there is 
no incompatibility between negro organization and high 
intellectual power. Among a very few individuals of 
the African race who have distinguished themselves by 
intellectual achievement, Toussaint L'Ouverture is pre- 
eminent: and while society is waiting for evidence of 
what the negro race at large can do and become, it 
seems to be rational to build high hopes upon such a 
character as that of the man who was, as a Dictator and a 
General, the model upon which Napoleon formed himself;* 
who was as inclined to peace as renowned in war ; and who 
will ever be regarded in history as one of the most remark- 
able men of an age teeming with social wonders. 

At the time when the French Revolution broke out, 
the island of St. Domingo belonged partly to the Span- 
iards and partly to the French. This beautiful island, 
which lies so near Jamaica that the blue mountains of 
Jamaica may be seen from the heights of Hayti (as 
St. Domingo is now called), is 390 miles long, and 140 
broad, at its widest part. About two-thirds of the island 
belonged to the Spaniards, and the remainder, the 
western end, to the French. The north and east coasts 
are barren ; but the interior spreads into fertile plains, 
where the Spaniards were rich in wild horses, cattle, and 
swine. The part belonging to the French was divided 
into three provinces ; and in these there were a few 
flourishing towns, and many rich plantations cultivated 
by slaves. There are some high mountains, and many 
beautiful valleys, shaded with cacao groves and coffee 
plantations ; while in the plains were fields of cotton, 
sugar, and tobacco, separated from each other by hedges 
of limes, citrons, and flowering shrubs. Such was the, 
country of which Toussaint became the ruler. 

As for the people who lived in the French provinces 
*f the island, they were of three kinds — the planters, who 
were Frenchmen, or the descendants of Frenchmen ; the 
free people of colour, descendants of freed slaves, or of< 
white fathers and negro mothers ; and the large class of 
town and country slaves. The numbers of these three 
classes were supposed to be as follows in 1790 : — 

Whites 30,831 

Free people of colour . . 24,000 

Town slaves .... 46,000 

Rural slaves .... 434,429 

So that there were between fifteen and sixteen times as 
many slaves as whites ; while, at the same time, the free 
people of colour might, by themselves, have been almost 
a match for the whites in case of a war of races. 

When the' French Revolution broke out, news arrived, 
of course, in the colony of St. Domingo, of what was 
doing in France. It might have been supposed that the 
planters, a small body of gentlemen, holding a large 
number of slaves, and living in the midst of mulattoes, 
to whom, though free, they would not allow the rights of 
citizenship, would have been anxious to prevent anything 
being said in the colony about the Rights of Men, and 
upon Social Equality. It strangely happened, however, 
that when they were speaking of Man and his Rights, they 
were thinking only of white men ; and it seems never to 
have occurred to them that dark-complexioned men 
would desire or endeavour to obtain their share of social 
freedom. The mulattoes, however, considered that they 
were as much entitled to social liberty of every kind as 
any other men; and while the white planters were 
drinking popular toasts, and displaying the banners sent 
over to them from France, and hailing a new age of the 
world, forgetting that they were all the time oppressing 
the mulattoes, and holding fellow-men in property, their 
dusky neighbours were planning how they might best 
claim from the French government the rights of citizen- 
• See f Biographie Universellc/ article Toussaint, 

ship, from which they were shut out by the. proud whites. 
A dreadful war followed, in consequence ef the absolute 
refusal of the whites to admit them to An equality. The 
French government first favoured one party and then the 
other, and thus exasperated the deadly hatred which the 
two parties mutually bore. There are no more horrible 
cruelties on record than those which the whites and the 
mulattoes exercised towards each other in the war of the 
Revolution of St. Domingo. 

What were the slaves doing while it went on ? For 
some time they kept very quiet, supposing that they had no - 
concern in the affair. Their masters were so much in the 
habit of despising negroes, that they do not appear to 
have dreaded their slaves hearing anything about the 
principles of liberty. It is not certainly known whether 
the mulattoes stirred up the slaves to attempt their free- 
dom, or whether they did it quite of their own accord. 
The mulattoes had been put down, for the time, by the 
whites, and it is very probable that they set the slaves to 
rebel for them ; but all that is known is that a fire broke 
out on a plantation on the northern part of the island, in 
the month of August, 1791, and that it soon appeared 
that all the slaves in the province were acting in concert, 
and rising against their masters. The north-western part 
of the island blazed with fires ; the household slaves 
were locked up by their owners ; and the whites began 
fortifying the towns. 

Toussaint was at this time a slave on a plantation in 
the midst of this district. He was one of the last to stir 
in the insurrection ; and he was often heard to lament 
the violence of his brethren in rising at all. 

The father of Toussaint was said to have been the se- 
cond son of an African king, and to have been taken 
prisoner in war with another tribe, and sold into slavery. 
He became the property of a planter in St. Domingo, 
whose estate lay about three miles distant from the town 
of Cap Francois, on the north-west coast of the island. 
On this estate, called Breda, Toussaint was bom, in the 
year 1143 or 1145. He had three sisters and four bro- 
thers, and was the eldest of the sons. The first employ- 
ment of the little slave was to keep the cattle ; and the 
earliest recollections of his character were of his gentle- 
ness, thoughtfulness, and strong religious tendencies. 
When he became a great man, every one was anxious to 
learn particulars of nis childhood ; and all the few who 
could tell anything of him agreed as to his meditative 
and religious cast of mind. He had some of the advan- 
tages for thought that the herdsmen of the East enjoy, — 
long days of solitude, spent under a bright sky, with all 
the luxuriance of nature shed around, and an occupation 
which requires little of either the head or hands. But 
all this would be nothing to a mind which had never 
been roused. Toussaint would have vegetated like the 
grass he stretched himself upon, if some superior mind 
had not given him thoughts, or incited him to think for 
himself. Whose this mind was, whether that of parent, 
master, companion, or priest, we do not know. Mr. 
Bayou de Libertas, the bailiff of the plantation, was kind 
to him ; and by some means he learned to read and 
write, and proceeded a short way in arithmetic. Whether 
the bailiff caused him to be taught, or whether he owed 
his knowledge to a friendly negro, named Pierre Baptiste* 
or whether he learned by watching what others did, is 
disputed. The bailiff observed his superiority, and took 
him out of the field to make him his coachman. In this 
situation, as in every other, Toussaint was remarkable 
for a sedateness which nothing could disturb, and an in- 
vincible patience. Instead of being tyrannical towards 
children and brute animals, as those who are themselves 
oppressed usually and naturally are, he was loving arid 
gentle. His religion taught him to endure patientlv, 
and at the same time to refrain from inflicting upon 
others anything which he would not have inflicted on 
himself. Through life, in the lowest humiliation of nis 
servitude, and in the majesty of his virtual sovereignity 

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he was temperate in all kinds of enjoyments, and remark- 
able for preferring the pleasures of the mind to those of 
the body. At twenty-five he nnited himself to a woman 
of his own colour, and had several children, whom he 
reared with great judgment and tenderness^ 

When the slaves rose in 1791, Toussaint feared and 
believed that their objects were Tevenge and plunder; 
and he mourned over their excesses, and kept quiet him- 
self, in the conviction that it was better to endure per- 
sonal injuries than to avenge them. The moment, how- 
ever, that he perceived that the struggle was of a political 
nature, and that the rights of a class were in question, 
he declared his intention of joining his brethren, and 
stepped in a moment out of slavery into freedom. He 
had nothing to do with the fires and massacres of Au- 
gust, 1791 ; but joined the insuTgeuts as soon as he was 
convinced that they had a principle of union, and an end 
in view. . When the plantation on which he served was 
endangered by the approach of the negro forces, he pro- 
vided for the safety of his master, putting him on board 
*n American vessel in the harbour, and shipping with 
him a quantity of sugar, on the proceeds of which the fu- 
gitive might live in his exile. This duty done, he pre- 
sented himself to the black general, Jean Francois, and 
was received into the army. He had some knowledge of 
medicine, and was called physician to the forces ; and rose 
through the rank of aide-de-camp to that of colonel. 

This army was under royalist commanders, and was 
actually fighting for the king, and the ancient order of 
things in France ; while the planters, the aristocracy of 
the island, were representing revolutionary principles. A 
strange set of circumstances ! and an odd cause for Tous- 
saint to be embracing ! He knew and cared little for the 
state of parties in France : he was fighting for his black 
brethren against their white oppressors ; and for a long 
while was not aware that he was affording his testimony in 
favour of the same despotic principles in France which 
he was contending against in St. Domingo. 

In the interval between his embarking in military en- 
terprise, and his discovery of the position which it be- 
came him to assume, Toussaint was with Jean Francois 
and the army in the Spanish part of the island ; for the 
Spanish colonists were opposed to the republican French 
planters. Two commissioners were sent from France to 
offer liberty and peace to the negroes, in the name of the 
nation. Toussaint's reply to their overtures is remark- 
able, as showing what was his political belief at this pe- 
riod, 1193, when he was under the influence of the 
Spanish governors of the colony, and before he had suffi- 
ciently ascertained and pondered the state of affairs in 
the island. He wrote to the commissioners, — " We can- 
not conform to the will of the nation, because, since there 
has been government in the world, we have obeyed none 
but that of a king. We have lost our French king, but we 
are fostered by the Spanish sovereign, who assists and re- 
wards us. Therefore, Commissioners, we cannot acknow- 
ledge you till you shall have enthroned another king." 

Toussaint was at this time posted at Marmalade, with 
his negro troops, and under the command of a Spanish 
general. While theTe, he heard of the Decree of the 
French Convention, of February 4th, 1794, which con- 
firmed and proclaimed the liberty of all slaves, and de- 
clared St. Domingo to be an integral part of France. 
This news seems tp have opened his eyes to the truth that 
in opposing the republican general he was fighting against 
the freedom of the blacks. He lost no time in opening a 
communication with Laveaux, the republican com- 
mander ; and in a few days he marched to join him, with ( 
a considerable negro force, delivering up to the repub- 
lican arms several Spanish posts of great importance. 
The Spanish general, Hermoiia, had exclaimed, a few 
days before, on seeing Toussaint receive the sacrament, 
that God never visited a purer spirit ; but now confusion 
w& terror reigned among the Spaniards, and the name 

of the negro commander was reviled as it had before been 
honoured. It is hinted by historians that ambition was 
one cause of the defection of Toussaint ; that he had 
little hope of rising to the rank held by Jean Francois in 
the Spanish forces, while he hoped for a great addition 
to his honours from the French general. Laveaux made 
him brigadier-general, but watched all his movements, 
believing that a man who had changed sides once might 
change again. The power which Toussaint speedily ob- 
tained over the ignorant and barbarous soldiery, (the re- 
leased slaves, whom he commanded,) was indeed wonder- 
ful enough to fix the attention of all who were around 
him, — the wisest and most experienced of whom were as 
much under the spell of his influence as tne most de- 
graded. It was by his observation of men's minds, an,d 
by his own decision of character, that he obtained this 
influence. He had not yet had the opportunity of show- 
ing valour : he was so ter from eloquent that his words 
were few, and the utterance of them awkward and diffi- 
cult ; he was above fifty years of age, and had but just 
emerged from slavery. But he knew that the blacks 
wanted a leader, and he- felt that he was the leader they 
wanted ; and this conviction gave him a confidence in 
arrangement and action, which made him the master of 
all the minds about him. When the Spanish posts fell, 
one after another, into the hands of the French, one of 
the commissioners exclaimed, " Cet homme fait ouverture 
partout!" "This man makes an opening every way." 
The public voice gave Toussaint the name of L'Ouver- 
ture, the opening, from this time ; and he willingly 
adopted it, building upon it an assurance to his dark 
brethren that through him they were to attain a bright 
and peaceful future. 

The distrust with which Laveaux regarded him seemed, 
however, to doom him to inaction, and to fix the term of 
his political career : but Toussaint was a man made to 
avail himself of accidents ; and an accident soon hap- 
pened which he turned to good account. The mulattoes 
of the town of Cap Francois conspired against the French 
general, in March, 1795, and imprisoned him. Toussaint, 
on hearing of it, marched towards the town, and before 
he reached it had 10,000 men under his command. He 
prepared to besiege the place, when the inhabitants 
opened the gates to him. He entered as a conqueror, re- 
leased the French general from prison, and restored him 
to his dignities. In a fervour of gratitude Laveaux de- 
clared, " It is this black, this Spartacus, predicted by 
Raynal, who is destined to avenge the outrages committed 
against his whole race ;" and the general added, that he 
should henceforth do nothing without the advice and 
assistance of Toussaint. He immediately appointed him 
lieutenant of St. Domingo ; and Toussaint was in fact 
Dictator of the colony from that day. The first use he 
made of his power was to establish order and discipline 
among the black population; and the success of his 
endeavours is equally honourable to the people he go- 
verned and to himself. France owed him an immense 
debt of gratitude. A historian unfriendly to the blacks* 
wrote, that " if St. Domingo still carried the colours of 
France, it must be allowed it was solely owing to an old 
negro, who seemed to be appointed by heaven to unite its 
severed members." The war with the Spanish part of the 
island was soon brought to a close, and the negro chiefs 
engaged in it repaired to the court of Spain, leaving Tous- 
saint to support alone the pride and the hopes of his colour. 

It is said that, in order to possess himself of a post held 
by the English, he wrote to the British commander, Sir 
Thomas Brisbane, that he desired to confer with him as 
to the means of going over to the English, hoping thus 
to get Sir Thomas Brisbane into his power ; and that the 
English commander was on the point of falling into the 
trap, when warning reached him of the treacherous inten- 
tions of Toussaint. It is certain that an officer, named 
* Lacrouc 


Digitized by 




[Mams 31, 

Gauthier, was sent instead, and that he hegan his nego- 
tiation hy an endeavour to bribe the negro general with 
money. " Toussaint appeared deeply displeased, arrested 
' the officer and his companions, and caused them to be 
shot for having desired to corrupt the general of the 
French forces. Wherever he went, he made order take 
the place of licentiousness, and diligence of recklessness. 
The waste country began to teem with fertility wherever 
he turned his steps ; and all the sad symptoms of devas- 
tation disappeared where he stretched out his arm in 
command. The proprietors naturally came in under his 
protection, and were eager to sanction his authority \ and 
never perhaps was a monarch more powerful or more 
conscious of his power than Toussaint in his beautiful 
island at this time. With what a full heart, with what 
strange emotions must he have looked upon the Breda 
estate, where fifty years had passed over him as a slaw ! 
How his eye must have dwelt on the cattle in the field 
where he was herdsman ! on the bananas under whose 
shade he rested at noon ! and on the hut where he slept 
in preparation for the toils of the morrow ! But Toussain* 
was proud, and no unnecessary word is known to have 

escaped him respecting his astonishing cnange of condi- 
tion. He seems to have considered himself born to a great 
lot ; for he was as little dazzled by his elevation as he 
had been patient in depression. 

General Laveaux returned to Europe, and Commis- 
sioner Santhonax nominated Toussaint commander-in- 
chief. A Frenchman who arrived in the island from the 
mother-country to take that dignity, found himself a mere 
cipher, and began to complain. Toussaint ordered him 
on board a corvette in the roads, and sent him home. 
Soon after he got rid of Santhonax, by sending him with 
despatches to the French government. All this appears 
excessively arbitrary ; and it remains doubtful how much 
of Toussaint's proceedings was owing to his personal 
ambition, and how much to his conviction that men fresh 
from France could never govern negroes, and that the 
peace and prosperity of the island depended on his keep- 
ing all the power in his own hands. It is certain that 
he did restore St. Domingo to a state of high prosperity ; 
that the people were devoted to him ; and that no act of 
guilt is known to have been ever perpetrated by him for 
the gratification of his own ambition. 

[Temple «rect«d by the Black Fojwlation of Hayti, to commemorate their Emancipation.] 

Toussaint perceived how his arbitrary measures to- 
wards the French officials would tell against him in the 
mother-country ; and he sent his two sons, Placide and 
If aac, to be educated in Paris, escorted by an officer, who 
was commissioned to intimate to the French government 
the uneasiness and trouble which would be caused in the 
island by the continued residence of Commissioner San- 
thonax.. In his letter to the Directory on this occasion, he 
declared how great must be his confidence in the Direc- 

tory, when he delivered his children into their power, at 
a time when the complaints which were alleged against 
him might well cause a doubt of his good faith ! " At 
present," he added, " there is no inducement to interior 
agitation. I guarantee, under my personal responsibility, 
the submission of my black brethren to order, and their 
fidelity to France. Citizen Directors, you may rely upon 
speedy good results ; and you will soon feel whether I 
involve in vain my own responsibility and your hopes.'* 

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His conduct was publicly praised at Paris. He was 
once more entitled the Deliverer of St. Domingo, and the 
Directory presented him with a richly embroidered dress, 
and a suit of superb armour. 

The French government, however, could not but be 
jealous of him ; and General He'douville was sent out to 
be commander-in-chief, and to attempt to restrain the 
ambition of the negro Dictator. But H&ouville could 
compete with him no better tljan his predecessors. The 
captain of the ship, hearing Toussaint speak of the toils 
of command, said that he should be proud, after having 
brought out H&kraville, to carry back Toussaint. Tous- 
saint replied hastily, " Your ship, sir, is not large enough 
for a man tike me." HtfdouviUe soon turned his race 
homewards again. The enemies who then remained were 
the mulatto generals, who, jealous of the power of a negro, 
had stirred up their mulatto forces in rebellion against 
him : and the English, who still retained a footing in the 
island, and whom it was necessary to get rid of. Tous- 
saint dealt thus with each. 

The English general, Maitland, attempted to nego- 
tiate with Toussaint, as soon as it became clear that the 
British could not long hold their posts in the island. It 
is said that in the archives of the capital of Hayti there 
is a copy of the propositions made by the British, that 
they should evacuate their posts in the island, and that 
Toussaint should be acknowledged king of Hayti by 
England, on condition of his agreeing to a treaty of ex- 
clusive commerce with Great Britain. Toussaint was 
too wary to agree prematurely to these proposals ; but he 
accepted the evacuation of the British posts, and the rich 
presents of plate and cannon offered by the English ge- 
neral. He took possession of the principal posts amidst 
great pomp. The British troops lined the road : a Ca- 
tholic priest met him in procession with the host ; and 
he was received and entertained in a magnificent tent. 
After the feast, he reviewed the British troops. He seems 
to have borne in mind the intention of being made 
king of Hayti ; for he proclaimed a general amnesty, 
secured the old proprietors in their estates, decreed and 
superintended the diligent prosecution of rural labour, 
and attached all the Creoles by using his power to rein- 
state themr in their rights. He decreed that the former 
negro cultivators, though now free, should work for five 
years for their former masters, provided they were well 
used, and allowed a fourth part of the produce : and upon 
his thus pronouncing, the blacks flocked to. the fields, 
with arms by their sides, and the hoe in their /hands ; 
and all traces of the devastation of war soon disappeared. 
A characteristic anecdote is related of Toussaint's con- 
duct when General Maitland returned the visit at the ne- 
gro camp. General Maitland had such confidence in 
the honour of the negro commander, that he travelled for 
a great distance, among armed blacks, with only three 
attendants. The French commissioner, Roume, wrote to 
Toussaint, advising him to secure General Maitland while 
he had so favourable an opportunity. General Maitland 
knew of this advice, but he believed he also kaew Tous- 
saint ; and he proceeded. He was kept waiting awhile 
at head-quarters; and when Toussaint at length ap- 
peared, it was with two open letters in his hand. " There, 
General," said he, " before we talk together, read these. 
One is from the French commissioner ; the other is my 
answer. I could not see you till I had written my re- 
ply, that you might be satisfied how safe you are with 
me, and that I am incapable of baseness." If this 
story is true, (of which there seems no reason to doubt,) 
we may fairly refuse to entertain the suspicion of his 
enemies, of bis intention to entrap Sir Thomas Brisbane, 
as related above. 

The mulattoes now raised the cry that the island was 
told to Great Britain, and that Slavery was to be re- 
established ; and a cruel war began between them and 
the negroes ; the whites taking part with the one or the 
other, according to the position of their estates. On re- 

ceiving tidings of a success and massacre on the part of 
Rigaud, the mulatto chief, Toussaint collected his forces 
at Port-au-Prince, the south-western capital, and com- 
manded the attendance at church of all the mulattoes of 
the place. He mounted the pulpit, and addressed them, 
predicting his own success, and the ruin of their colour, 
if they opposed him. 

For a time, however, the mulattoes were successful, and 
by means of treachery were enabled to defy him, and 
lift up their heads in the north. But while they sup- 
posed Toussaint to be shut up in Port-au-Prince, he was 
upon them, having escaped a hundred dangers, and 
acted and marched with incredible speed. He delivered 
the whites who were imprisoned, and sacrificed the trai- 
tors to whom he owed his temporary defeat. The mu- 
lattoes, in utter despair, crowded into Cap Franqois. 
Toussaint was instantly upon them again. He convoked 
the authorities of the place in the church, mounted the 
pulpit, and declared, "The men of colour have been 
punished enough. Let them be forgiven by all, as they 
are by me. They may return to their dwellings, where 
they shall be protected and treated like brethren." 

The enthusiasm excited by this unexpected clemency, 
however great among those who had been trembling 
before the conqueror, did not extend to their companions 
who were in arms. The war was not over ; but Tous- 
saint was finally victorious. Towards the end of the 
year 1199, Napoleon, then First Consul, sent out commis- 
sioners to St. Domingo, to confirm Toussaint in his office 
of commander-in-chief. Rigaud, the mulatto general, saw 
that his party was abandoning him, and set sail for Franoe. 

Again it appeared as if all promised peace and pros- 
perity ; but the mind of Toussaint was not yet at ease. 
The ambitious are never at case : some doubt, some fear, 
some anticipation of evil, for ever troubles their repose. 
Napoleon, had not written to him ; and fearing that this 
omission might be in some way portentous, Toussaint 
evaded publishing the proclamation brought by the com- 
missioners, and reading under the banners of the forces 
the address of Napoleon, " Brave blacks, remember that 
the French alone acknowledge your liberty and your equa- 
lity of rights !" He kept his uneasiness to himself for the 
time, however, and applied himself to his civil duties, as 
before the late war, and with no less success. Hearing 
that the bailiff of the Breda estate, on which he had been 
a slave, was wearing away his life in the United States, 
Toussaint caused him to be written to, inviting him to re- 
turn, and put himself at the head of the interests of " the 
old good masters." The bailiff ma^e all ha*te,*and was 
invited to the soiree of the commander-in-chief 1 , l>n the very 
evening of his arrival at Port-au7Prince. He was about 
to embrace the great man ; but Toussaint drew back two 
steps, and said, in a grave tone, "Gently, sir! there is 
how a wider difference between me and you, than there 
was formerly between you and me. Return to the Breda 
estate; be just and steady; make the blacks work well, 
that by the prosperity of your smaller interests you may 
aid the general prosperity of * the first of the blacks,' of 
the commander-in-chief of St. Domingo." 

He caused the duties of religion and morality to be 
strictly enforced, and gave the whole weight of his ex- 
ample and influence in favour of decency and sobriety of 
life. He frowned upon every indication of licentious- 
ness of manners, and avoided all favourable notice of 
persons, however otherwise graced, who were not modest, N 
quiet, and diligent in their vocation. His public levees 
were conducted with the strictest decorum, and the best 
private societies of Europe were not superior in manners 
to his evening parties. Every thing was magnificent 
around him, and his retinue was splendid as that of an 
Oriental monarch; but he was plain in his food, his 
dress, and all his habits. He wore a turban alwayB on 
his head, and was thence called by his enemies " the 
monkey with the linen head-dress." He made a meal 
of cakes and fruit, with a glass of water. His bodily 
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[March &l^ 

strength was prodigious, and he maintained it by constant 
rigorous exercise. It was his custom to make sudden 
excursions to various parts of the island, always choosing 
the points where he was least expected. He sometimes 
rode 150 miles without rest, perpetually outstripping all 
his attendants, except two trumpeters, who were as well 
mounted as himself. After such fatigue, he would sleep 
for two hours, and start up again, refreshed for new toils. 
He was accessible to all who wished to see him ; and it 
is said that no one ever left his presence dissatisfied : if 
he could not grant the request, he contrived to please the 
applicant. His generals were obedient as children before 
him ; his soldiers regarded him as a superior being, and 
the people at large worshipped him as their deliverer. 
It is no wonder that the conviction existing in his mind 
escaped his lips, that he was the Bonaparte of St. 
Domingo, and that the colony could not exist without 
him. This was no more than a moderate expression 
of the truth. 

He saw that there could be no permanent peace in the 
island while any portion of it remained under Spanish 
control ; and his first great error of policy seems to have 
been regarding exclusively the state of affairs at home, 
and overlooking or despising the force which might be 
brought against him from Europe. He found little 
difficulty in uniting the Spanish. to the French portion of 
the island under his sway. The city of St. Domingo 
delivered its keys to him upon summons ; and the clergy, 
who were very influential among the Spanish population, 
were in favour of a devout ruler who flattered their am- 
bition with the homage he rendered to themselves and 
their office. They prepared the people to receive him, 
in his progress through the island, with acclamations, 
and the uproar of cannon and bells. 

His manner of taking the oath tendered to him by the 
Spanish authorities at the city of St. Domingo illustrates 
the mind of the man. The ancient oath involved an 
engagement to govern with wisdom the territory of which 
the ruler was about to take possession. On this oath 
being tendered, Toussaint replied, " I cannot make the 
promise you require ; but I swear, before God who hears 
me, that I consign the past to oblivion, and that my vigi- 
lance and my cares shall have no other object than to 
render the people who have placed themselves under my 
care happy and conteut." The governor, upon this, de- 
livered the keys to him without hesitation. This hap- 
pened in January, 1801. 

He employed a council of his adherents to prepare a 
colonial constitution, which might unite the different in- 
habitants of the island under an uniform and impartial 
government. By this constitution all executive power 
was put into his hands, with the office of president for 
life, with power to choose his successor, and to nominate 
to all offices. In all that regarded commerce and finance 
this constitution worked admirably, during the short time it 
was tried. The commerce of all nations visited the shores 
of St. Domingo under the American flag ; the treasury 
filled ; the estates flourished, and Toussaint was adored. 
But Toussaint had now reached the highest point of 
his prosperity. Fifty years of his life had been spent in 
an insensible preparation for the prodigious work which 
the last ten had achieved. His meditations in the groves, 
his speculations under the starry heavens of the tropics, 
his study of human powers and human destinies during 
the nights of nearly half a century of slavery, had now 
come into the use for which he had little dreamed that 
they were designed. He had been the means of forming 
a nation of freemen out of a herd of negro slaves, and 
had taught them that personal self-restraint is the only 
guarantee of social liberty : he had fairly established the 
first civilized negro community ; and now it remained to 
show how the other species of education which he had 
undergone had prepared him for another fate ; how far 
his principles of religion and his habits of patience could 
support him through the third, the dreariest portion of I 

his course. Two years of his life remained to be passed 
in decline, in humiliation, struggle, grief, and sickness. 
It is evident to others, though little dreamed of by him 
self, that his greatest moral triumphs took place in these 
last two years. 

He was warned by many of his counsellors that the 
proclamation of a new colonial constitution would be 
highly offensive to France — that it would be considered a 
manifesto against the mother-country. He trusted not : 
he hoped that while all was done in the name of France, 
and so obviously to the advantage of the colony in its 
enlarged and enriched state, the countenance of the go- 
vernment in Europe would not be withheld. But the 
obstinate silence of Napoleon disturbed him more and 
more. He had written repeatedlv — " The First of the 
Blacks to the First of the Whites, — and no notice had 
been taken of "his communications. 

Towards the end of the year 1801, news arrived that 
slavery was to be maintained in Martinique and Cayenne, 
that preliminaries of peace between France and England 
were signed, and that there was an expectation in Europe 
that Napoleon would reduce St. Domingo to complete 
obedience, and re-establish slavery there. The suspense 
which had troubled Toussaint was now at an end. He 
issued a proclamation on the 18th of December, 1801, 
which, though it began with professions of obedience to 
France, was decidedly, in its substance, an appeal to the 
soldiery, it was so understood ; and the colony became 
aware that a defence against France was to be attempted. 
In January, 1802, the French squadron, bearing the 
choicest troops of the army of Napoleon, commanded by 
his brother-in-law, Le Clerc, entered the bay of Samana. 
Toussaint stood on the mountain-side to watch their ap- 
proach. In a moment of uncontrollable emotion, he 
revealed to his officers something like despair. " We shall 
all perish," said he ; " all France is coming to St. Do- 
mingo ; but she is a dupe, or she would not come for the 
sake of vengeance and slavery." Crowds of blacks who 
had assembled to gaze at the French, who landed on a 
point where they were not expected, were suddenly charged 
with the bayonet ; and for once Toussaint was not on 
the spot to aid them. General Cristophe (afterwards 
king of Hayti) sent Jto prohibit the landing of the French 
at Cap Francis without the leave of the commander-in- 
chief. Le Clerc requested an interview with Cristophe, 
and strove to win him over to the side of France. It 
is said that Toussaint was in an adjoining apartment, 
and heard the whole of the conversation. The unvarying 
reply of Cristophe was that he would report everything 
to his chief, but that nothing could be done without his 
permission. The reason why the negro generals could 
not act with vigour at this time was that the whites ix\ 
Cap Francois were disposed to favour the French, in the 
hope of slavery being restored by them. Cristophe soon 
found that the inhabitants of the city were so little to be 
relied on to keep the enemy out of it, that no means of 
depriving the French of a harbourage remained but to 
burn the town. He fired it in several places, and with- 
drew his troops in good order, carrying with him 200O 
whites as hostages, not one of whom was injured duriug 
the warfare which followed. 

Toussaint was not idle all this while. He knew he might 
trust to Cristophe to deal with the city ; and he was busy 
in the interior making preparations tor a protracted war. 
He knew that if he could, by any means, hold out till 
August, the yellow fever would be an omnipotent ally. 
General Le Clerc seems to have entertained a due dread 
of the mighty negro ; for he tried all devices to ensnare 
him before he drove him to bay. Among other seduc- 
tions to yield, he employed the two sons of Toussaint, 
who had been educated at Paris, and who had been 
brought over in the squadron. The youths were setit^ 
with their tutor, to Ennery, one of their father's country 
residences, where their parents met them. The interview^ 
was most affecting. The tutor directed all his influence 

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over his charge, all their hopes and fears, all their French 
ideas and sentiments, to persuade their father to become 
lieutenant-general under Le Clerc. All this was in vain. 
Toussaint knew that the subjugation of his race was the 
aim of this invasion ; and he was neither to be threatened 
nor tempted into any concession whatever. He withdrew 
from the estate, where the youths remained for some days, 
at the end of which Toussaint sent orders to them to 
return to the fleet, with a letter to Le Clerc, which con- 
tained the following : — " You have come to supplant me 
by force of arms. You have detained the letter of the 
First Consul to me till three months after its date ; and 
have meanwhile put in jeopardy the order and liberties 
of the blacks by acts of hostility. The rights of my- 
colour impose upon me duties above those of nature ; to 
them I am ready to sacrifice my children, whom I send 
back to you, that I may not be enfeebled and shackled 
by their presence. I am more distrustful of France than 
ever, and must have time to decide on the course I am 
to pursue." Le Clerc hastened to send back the sons, 
with a declaration that he agreed to a truce of four days; 
at the end of which time he would outlaw the negro 
generals, if they did not come into the service of France. 
Toussaint had no idea of yielding. His first thought 
was for the liberty of conscience of his sons. He left them 
free to choose between him and France. " My children," 
said he, " choose your duty. Whatever it be, I shall al- 
ways love and bless you." Placide declared that he had 
done with France ; and he fought by his father's side. 
Isaac returned to the fleet. The first of these family in- 
terviews took place on the 8th or 9th of February, at 
night ; and the second a few days afterwards. 

A declaration of outlawry was issued, as threatened, 
against Toussaint and Cristophe. Le Clerc used every 
means to secure the defection of the negro troops, in which 
he succeeded but too well ; a matter more of sorrow than 
surprise, under the circumstances. The greatest marvel 
of all Toussaint's achievements is that he was able to do 
what he did with such social materials as he had at com- 
mand. When it is considered that the elements of the 
society he ruled were whites, first made arbitrary and self- 
ish by being slave-owners, and then vindictive by being 
deprived of their human property — mulattoes made jea- 
lous by social oppression — and negroes debased by slavery, 
it is truly astonishing that, while left unmolested from 
without, Toussaint was able to establish anything like 
order, diligence, peace, and prosperity in the island. The 
presence of a foreign foe, who appealed to the jealousy, 
avarice, and fears of the different parties in society, was 
sure to disorganize his work for the time, and leave him 
a sacrifice to the defection of his people. After much 
fighting and some vicissitude, Toussaint, with his generals 
and a small body of troops, fortified himself in a moun- 
tainous retreat. There Le Clerc pursued him, and lost 
1500 men in repeated vain attempts to dislodge him. 
The blacks issued forth at intervals, cut off the commu- 
nication between different bodies of the invaders, and as- 
saulted the French when they were least expected. On 
one occasion, Toussaint appeared before a division which 
had been joined by some of his own troops, at the time of 
the greatest defection. At the first sight of him, the 
black deserters sank to the ground, while he was appeal- 
ing to them — " Will you kill your general, your father, 
your brethren ?" But all was in vain. The discipline 
of the French troops (amounting, with reinforcements, 
to 25,000 men) was too much for him. He was sus* 
tained occasionally by bands of labourers from the es- 
tates; but the French were reinforced to much better 
purpose by the arrival of 4000 fresh and hardy soldiers 
from France. Cristophe and Dessalines, his two chief 
supporters, were compelled to submission : and the time 
was come for Toussaint to make terms. 

Toussaint called before him two of his prisoners, one a 
military, the other a naval officer, and sent them as bearers 
of a letter from him to Le Clerc, in which he intimated 

that there might yet be room for negotiation. He exhi- 
bited the war as having now become aimless and merely 
cruel ; but declared, finally, that he should always be 
strong enough to burn, ravage, and destroy, and to sell 
dearly a life which had been somewhat useful to the mo- 
ther-country as well as to his own race. Le Clerc was 
only too happy to negotiate. Five thousand of his men 
were slain ; five thousand more were in the hospitals ; 
and only twelve thousand remained in fighting condition. 

The declaration of Toussaint's outlawry was rescinded, 
and, a few days after, the fallen hero came boldly to greet 
the French general. His appearance excited a strong 
sensation, and the mountains reverberated with the sa- 
lutes fired in his honour from the forts and the squadron. 
All heads were bowed as he passed, and the French were 
awed by the homage paid to the Deliverer in his adversity. 
Toussaint was followed by between 300 and 400 horse- 
men, who remained in a defensive position, their sabres 
drawn, during the conference between the two com- 
manders. Among other things, Le Clerc asked Tous- 
saint where he would have found arms to prolong his 
resistance. " I would have taken yours," was the reply. 
Toussaint took the oath of allegiance, and was authorised 
to retire to his estates. 

Le Clerc was thus put into nominal possession of the 
colony and of the colonial army : but Toussaint was the 
virtual monarch of the island. His moral influence was 
incalculable ; and while he lived and moved in sight, the 
French held but a deceptive sovereignty. A glance of 
the great man's eye, the lifting up of his finger, his 
lightest whisper, were more than a match for all the 
drilled troops, all the ships and ammunition in France, and 
for all the wealth of her treasury. Napoleon knew this ; 
and accordingly Le Clerc was furnished with secret orders 
which empowered him to remove that influence by trea- 
chery which he had been unable to overthrow by force. 
The transaction related above was called by Le Clerc 
" the pardon of Toussaint." By the negroes, its whis- 
pered title was, " a suspension of hostilities till August," 
— till the potent ally, yellow fever, should arrive. Time 
pressed : it was difficult to take Toussaint, on account 
of his wariness, and of the love borne to him by the 
whole people. A deep stratagem served the purpose at 

The district of Ennery was purposely overcharged with 
French troops. The residents were discontented, and made 
Toussaint the medium of their complaints. General Bru- 
net, to whom he applied, answered that he was but imper- 
fectly informed about the localities, and needed the as- 
sistance of the former ruler of St. Domingo to deter- 
mine the situation of the troops. " See these Whites !" 
exclaimed Toussaint, as he read General Brunei's letter. 
" They doubt nothing ; they know every thing ; and yet 
they are obliged to come for advice to old Toussaint." 
He fell into the trap. He sent word to General Brunet 
that he would come, attended by twenty men, and confer 
with him, on the Georges estate, on the 10th of June. 
General Brunet appeared at the appointed place and time, 
escorted also by twenty men. He asked Toussaint in, 
and they shut themselves up for business. Meanwhile 
the French soldiers mixed in with the escort of Toussaint, 
engaged each his man in light conversation, and, at an 
appointed signal, sprang each upon his negro neighbour, 
and disarmed him. At the same moment, the French 
admiral, Ferrari, appeared before Toussaint, and said, " I 
have orders from General Le Clerc to arrest you. Your 
guards are captured : our troops are everywhere : you 
are a dead man if you resist. Deliver up your sword." 
Ttfussaint yielded his sword in silence. 

He was conducted to his estate at Gonaives, — not, as 
his adorers had trusted, to spend a vigorous and' peaceful 
old age in repose, surrounded by his family, and cherished 
by the love of the people he had redeemed, but merely in 
preparation for further insult and injury. A frigate, the 
Creole, anchored in the bay, near Toussaint's estate ; and 

Digitized by 




[March 31, 1&3&. 

hi the night he and his family wetfe ttmfced from sleep, 
hurried on board, and conveyed to the northwest coast of 
the island, where they were put on board the Heros, a 
•hip of the line, in which they were conveyed to France. 
Two black chiefs, who attempted the great man's rescue, 
were shot : and about 100 of Toussaint's most devoted 
companions were arrested, and sent on board different 
ships of the squadron. No one of them was ever heard 
of more ; and it is supposed that they were all thrown 

On meeting the commander of the He*ros, Toussaint 
observed to him, " In overthrowing me, you have over- 
thrown only the trunk of the tree of negro liberty in St. 
Domingo. It will arise again from the roots, because 
they are many, and have struck deep." He spoke truly. 
Slavery has never been re-established in Hayti ; and this 
island may be regarded as the centre from which negro 
liberty and civilization are destined to spread into all the 
countries where the dusky race is found. The outrage 
upon Toussaint roused the whole island. Cristophe and 
Dessalines rosewith their forces : the French were pressed 
on every side ; and all the reinforcements which were 
sent from France seemed to do them no good. Even 
while Toussaint yet lived, 40,000 Frenchmen are sup- 
posed to have perished in the island. They established 
the torture : they introduced blood-hounds from Cuba to 
hunt down the blacks : but for every black whom they 
destroyed, two seemed to rise up ; and before the invaders 
relinquished the struggle, they were reduced to feed on the 
carcases of the very dogs they had brought in to destroy 
their foes. On the first of January, 1804, the independ- 
ence of Hayti was formally proclaimed, and its inhabit- 
ants took their place among the nations. 

Toussaint was kept a close prisoner on his passage to 
France, not being allowed to see even his own family. 
On the arrival of the ship at Brest, he was allowed to 
meet them once, to bid them farewell for ever ; — for ever 
in this world, he would have said ; for he was a firm be- 
liever in a future life. He was escorted by a detachment 
of dragoons to Paris, and committed to the prison of the 
Temple. Napoleon repeatedly sent his aide-de-camp, 
Gattarelli, to him there, to question him about trea- 
sures he was reported to have buried. The only answer 

that could ever be got out of him was, " I have lost some- 
thing very different from such treasures as you seek." * 
When this disgraceful importunity was found to be in 
vain, he was conveyed to the castle of Joux, near Be 
sancon, in Normandy, where he was deprived of the 
services of his only remaining attendant, Mars-Plaiair, 
and locked up in a dungeon, the floor of which was ac- 
tually under water. It was while he, who had spent a 
long life in the sunshine of the tropics, and in unceasing 
activity of body and mind, was striving for patience un- 
der the long torture of such an imprisonment as this, 
that Wordsworth wrote this sonnet : — 

" Toussaint, the most unhappy Man of Men ! 
Whether the whistling rustic tend his plough 
Within thy hearing, or thou liest now • 

Buried in some deep dungeon's earless den ; — 
O miserable Chieftain 1 where and wheu 
Wilt thou find patience P Yet die not ; do thou 
Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow : 
Though fallen Thyself, never to rise again, 
Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind 
Powers that will work for thee — air, earth, and skies j 
There's not a breathing of the common wind 
That will forget thee : thou hast great allies ; 
Thy friends are exultations, agonies, 
And love, and Man's unconquerable mind." 

Of course, this captivity killed him, as his foes doubt* 
less intended it should. He held on for ten months, 
during which we know nothing of his thoughts and say- 
ings, and sank under an attack of apoplexy, on the 27th 
of April, 1803. 

His family resided in the south of France, where his 
wife .died, in 1816, in the arms of her sons, Placide and 

Was not this a Man — in all respects worthy of the 
name ? He was altogether African, — a perfect negro in 
his organization, yet a fully endowed and well-accom- 
plished man. In no respect does' his nature appear to 
have been unequal ; there was no feebleness in one di- 
rection as a consequence of unusual vigour in another. 
He had strength of body, strength of understanding, 
strength of belief, &nd consequently of ;purpose ; strength 
of affection, of imagination, and of will. He was em- 
phatically a Great Man : and what one man of his race 
has been, others may be. 

n 'too** 


tJ^UJffc^ *S(HvVtt, 

[Fac-simile of the subscription to a letter, respecting a proposed exchange of prisoners, written by Toussaint to Captain 
Smith, of his Britannic Majesty's ship Hannibal, dated " 5th January, 7th year of f " 


the French Republic : One and 

V The Office of the Society for the Diffusion of there! Knowledge Is at 69, Lincoln's Inn Fields. 


Printed by William Clowm and Soms, Stunted Street, 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[April 7, 1833. 


[Quagga-Hunting— From a Drawing in the South African Museum.] 

Amongst the peculiarities presented by the animal crea- 
tion of Southern Africa, is the circumstance of there be- 
ing several species of the Equine genus, which belong 
exclusively to that quarter of the world. These far sur- 
pass, in elegance of form and beauty of colour, the horse 
itself, but have hitherto been of no use to man, except 
as food. In this respect they present a striking analogy 
to that noble and spirited creature, the dziggetai (jiggetai) 
or wild ass of Asia. Xenophon describes the hunting of 
the wild ass on the plains of Mesopotamia, during the 
march of the army of the younger Cyrus ; the flesh of 
the animal was considered " to be like that of the red 
deer, but more tender." The Persians and Tartars still 
hold it in high esteem, and hunt it in preference to other 
descriptions of game. A somewhat similar preference is 
given by the natives of Southern Africa to the Zebra and 
the Quagga; and even the lion is said to relish their 
flesh better than the dry and tough venison of various 
species of the antelope inhabiting the same localities. 
The ostrich and the wild ass were remarked by Xeno- 
phon as mixing together, with a seeming predilection for 
each other's society ; and the same thing has been re- 
marked by African travellers, with respect to the Zebra, 
Quagga, and Ostrich. 

Mr. Burchell observes, that the word Zebra is un- 
known to the Hottentots, and that they apply the name 
Vol. VII. 

of Quakka to the Equus Quagga and the Equus Zebra. 
He describes the Quakka as having many stripes on the 
head and fore-part of the body ; the Zebra as covered 
with stripes over the head and whole of the body, but 
the legs are white ; and the Wilde Paard (wild horse) as 
being striped over every part, even down to the feet.* 
The latter animal is called by the Hottentots, Dauw, pro- 
nounced like dow, in dower. The Zebra and Wilde 
Paard, or Dow, may be further distinguished from each 
other, by the stripes of the Zebra being brown and white, 
and the brown stripe being double, that is, having a paler 
stripe within it, while the Wilde Paard is regularly and 
beautifully covered with single black and white stripes. 
Another distinction lies in the Zebra being more an in- 
habitant of the plain, and the Wilde Paard, which Mr. 
Burchell terms Equus Montanus, more an inhabitant of 
the mountain. The latter is indeed to be found in the 
plains that skirt the mountains, but it usually flies to the 
mountains for refuge when pursued. Both animals have 
a brilliant appearance when flying in troops before the 
hunters : but though the stripes of the wild horse are 

* The reader may compare the figure of the common Quagga, 
given in vol. ii., p. 29, of he * Penny Magazine,' with the figure 
in the wood-cut above. The one is bttiped only over the head, 
neck, and fore-part of the body ; the other is striped to the hoofs, 
and presents some noticeable differences in aspect. 

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[April % 

more defined and regular than those of the Zebra, the 
stripes of the latter are more lively in colouring ; Mr. 
Burchell, when surveying it with a pocket telescope, ad- 
mired its " clean sleek limbs glittering in the sun," and 
says it presented " a picture of great beauty." 

It is a question of some interest, especially when we 
consider that there are at least five species, whether these 
African congeners of the horse and ass can be effectually 
su A bdued to the service of man. The prevailing opinion 
seems to be that they can, if judicious measures are 
tried in their domestication. The subject has occupied 
the attention of the London Zoological Society (see 
c Penny Mag.,' vol. L, p. 44), and experiments have also 
been tried at the Cape of Good Hope. In the South 
African^ Museum there is a young specimen, which is 
thus described in the catalogue : — 

" Equus Burchellii, — This is the young of a species 
intermediate between the common South African Quaga 
and the Zebra, which was found occurring in herds in 
every district north of the Orange River visited by the 
Expedition. In the districts south of the river, on the 
other hand, it is very rarely met with, its place in the 
colony being supplied by the Equus Quaga of Linnaeus. 
It is an animal that admits of being tamed to a certain 
extent with considerable facility, and occasionally a half- 
domesticated specimen is exposed for sale at Cape Town, 
with a rider on its back. The persons, however, who 
have had most opportunities of becoming acquainted with 
its character, regard it, even in the most tractable state to 
which it has yet been reduced, as wicked, treacherous, 
obstinate, and fickle." 

As far, therefore, as experiment has yet gone, the lan- 
guage applied in the oldest book of the world to the wild 
ass of Asia, and which is still descriptive of it, is appli- 
cable to the Zebra, and more especially to the Dow, or 
Wilde Paard : — " He scorneth the multitude of the city, 
neither regardeth he the crying of the driver. The 
range of the mountain is his pasture, and he searcheth 
after every green thing." 

In a recent number (382) attention was directed to the 
collection in the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly, called the 
South African Museum. It has now been exhibited for 
a considerable period, and is probably known to the 
greater number of those who take an interest in such 
matters. But as the collection is intended for Bale in the 
course of the summer, and as the produce of the sale is 
to be added to the funds of the Cape of Good Hope Asso- 
ciation, to enable them to send another expedition to 
explore Central Africa, it is not unreasonable to direct 
attention to the collection once more. We have given 
the Rhinoceros Ketloa, as the most important object 
amongst the preserved specimens ; and now give a selec- 
tion from the drawings. The drawing represents with 
considerable spirit the spearing of a Dow, or Wilde 
Paard. Mr. Burchell thought the flesh of Zebra, Quagga, 
and Dow to be not very superior to horseflesh: the 
natives, however, relish it. 


[From a Correspondent.] 

The probable effects of the education of the people have 
been the subject of much discussion with both the ad- 
vocates and the opponents of the measure; and, as is 
natural, the predictions of both parties have taken their 
tone from the favourable or unfavourable light in which 
their general habits of mind have led them to view the 
subject. The one class have augured all that is fair and 
promising ; the other, ail that is gloomy and discouraging, 
as the result of tins great experiment. Time must decide 
which are the true and which the false prophets. In the 
meanwhile, however, individual instances may tend to 
show what will be the effect of the general education of 
the working classes. Such an instance I conceive my 
own case to present ; and, in the hope that it may be 

useful and interesting,* I proceed to give my own expe* 
rience of the effect of a liberal education on the character 
and circumstances of an artisan. 

My education has been in the fullest sense of the term 
liberal, comprising in its extent the usual course of 
ancient and modern instruction acquired at school and at 
college ; and to it was devoted the whole of my time up to 
my coming of age, and even beyond. The circumstances 
which have led me now to adopt the life of an artisan 
need not be detailed : it will be sufficient to state that I 
am engaged in a mechanical f^*npfttion t earning the. 
wages of a mechanic, and that not by any means the 
most highly paid ; depending on those wages for support ; 
and with no prospect of advancing, except by my own 
exertions, in a business where interest or money is the ready 
way of rising. I conceive then that my experience affords 
a fair experiment of the actual effect of a superior educa- 
tion on the character and condition of a working man. 

First, then, with respect to the degree of physical 
comfort capable of being derived from a mechanic's 
wages. From the habits of my previous life, I have na- 
turally been induced to push my expenses in these 
matters to the very verge of prudence. Accustomed to 
the comforts of home, and to every accommodation need- 
ful to health, I have continued the luxury (as to one of 
my condition it may appear) of two rooms, and those in 
an airy and healthful situation; and this, notwithstand- 
ing that my business happens to attach me to an ex- 
pensive part of town, and requires of me likewise a 
considerable expenditure in keeping up a respectable ap- 
pearance as regards dress. It was happily a part of 
my early training to be taught to " eat to live, not live to 
eat;" and hence I am enabled to sustain full health and 
vigour at an expense for board certainly not large, consi- 
dering the prices of provisions in the metropolis. There 
is indeed little left for contingencies, and little for the 
gratification of the literary tastes implanted by my edu- 
cation. In London, however, a little will go far m this 
respect ; and about a day's wages per quarter furnishes 
me with the use of a library, a reading-room pretty well 
supplied with papers and magazines, and admission to 
weekly lectures on various literary and philosophical 
subjects, all furnished by one of the excellent Mechanics' 
Institutions which exist for the recreation and improve- 
ment of the labouring classes. Such is the kind of life 
which my experience teaches me the wages of a journey- 
man blacksmith, tailor, or carpenter may supply ; and 
if it be in any respects superior to that which my fellow- 
operatives are usually known to live, to my education I 
attribute the difference, for it has rendered these various 
comforts and advantages necessaries of Efe in my 
estimation, to be supplied before one farthing be devoted 
to any less necessary purpose. Happily for me, I am 
not addicted to the excessive use of liquor, though no 
one joins more cordially in innocent social pleasures ; for 
my income could not supply such indulgences, expensive 
as many of my station find them. The difference is, that 
in my case mechanical toil finds its relaxation in mental 
pleasures; in some others, in sensual indulgence : educa- 
tion is the cause of the difference. Another important con- 
sequence of the high estimate of the necessaries of life de- 
rived from my education, and at the same time a very- 
efficient cause of the unanxious comfort in which I am 
enabled to live, is, that I have not dared to undertake the 
responsibility of maintaining a family while my own 
prospects are not over clear. It may be a question how 
far it conduces to one's happiness thus indefinitely to 
defer the entering on one of the most universally acknow- 
ledged means of happiness, in the endearments of domestic 
life. It may be that here my prudence may tend to 
carry me too far, for neither present circumstances nor 
future prospects seem to warrant the expectation of my 
being enabled to encounter the increased responsibilities; 
of matrimony within any assignable period. On this 
subject the wages of the artisan present aim with a choice 

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of difficulties; and it appeared necessary, in detailing 
ray. experience as an educated artisan, to indicate which 
way my particular training had led me to decide. 

From what has gone before, it will be evident that my 
experience affords no confirmation to the suspicion that 
education will indispose the labouring classes for their 
necessary work. On the contrary, if education tends 
thus to raise our estimate of the necessaries of life, it is 
plain that it must impel us to the more vigorous exertion 
at our several occupations, " the means whereby we live." 
It is true that, breakfasting by a comfortable fire on a 
cold morning, finding companionship in a newspaper, a 
magazine, or it may he a volume of the old Spectator, 
•r a play of Moliere, or an ode of Horace, my thoughts 
will now and then run in their old tracks, and suggest 
the idea of a day, as in former times, given entirely to 
my books. But it is necessarily only a passing thought : 
the comfort of my home, and my breakfast-table, and my 
magazine, and my books, all depend on my attention to 
my business ; and as a matter of course to my busi- 
ness I go, more regularly than he that knows that thus 
alone can he procure his evening carouse at his favourite 
alehouse or gin-shop. Nor does my previous mental 
training render utterly distasteful the dry and formal 
routine of business. On the contrary, wlule the eye is 
engaged in conveying information, and the hand obedient 
to the orders issued (it knows not how) in consequence, — 
while the head, but for this process, might be anywhere 
else, or employed on any other subject, some other sub- 
ject, more interesting and improving it may be, is not 
seldom found. I have often been amused to trace the 
cause occurring in my work, which has suggested some 
recollection of studies long since laid by, and thus called 
up trains of interesting thought almost forgotten, and 
revived associations intertwined with my best and warmest 
feelings. And not the less does the hand move on while 
the mind has been thus engaged ; indeed the mind makes 
shorter work of a succession of thoughts such as this 
than the pen can do in writing them. It returns also 
refreshed to the business in which it left the hand en- 
gaged. My education furnishes me, however, with more 
serious and more direct assistances towards my business. 
A knowledge of mathematics is universally allowed to be 
useful in all mechanical trades : in none more so, as it 
happens, than in my own. Not unfrequently does a 
proposition in Euclid, never thought of since its acquisi- 
tion in the lecture-room, flash across my mind just in 
time to find its application at the bench. Nor seldom do 
I aee my companions taking doubtfully a round-about 
road where I find it easy to cut across without fear or 
chance of error. And, once again, my classical studies, 
slighted as they are apt to be in this " cui bono ?" age, 
and, as it might be supposed, " a mere drug" to a me- 
chanic, come every now and then, just when wanted, to 
my assistance. The technical terms with which I meet, 
so far as they refer themselves to languages, ancient or 
modern, with which I am acquainted, need not to be 
learned by rote, but establish themselves in the memory 
by natural fitness, finding at once the proper peg on 
which to hang. And not seldom do they furnish amuse- 
ment also by the oddity of their application : words which 
last I heard from the mouth of Cicero or Virgil pressed 
into the service of a science of yesterday ; and languages 
long called dead revivified to adorn the triumphs of steam 
and express the new ideas x>f modern locomotion. 

It is, however, perhaps in the employment of my 
leisure hours that I find most fully the advantages of a 
liberal education. A considerable portion of my spare 
time is of course devoted to the carrying forward of ma- 
thematical and mechanical studies immediately connected 
with the business in which I am employed. This is of 
itself a relaxation; my day's work being amidst the 
drudgery of the profession, the mechanical working of 
that which other heads, have planned, it is refreshing to 

set the mind to investigate the principles on which the 
work proceeds. While thus employed too, mastering by 
degrees the higher mysteries of his art, the operative oc* 
casionally feels himself raised above his present station, 
and a ray of hope darts across his mind that the time 
may come when he may find a field for the exercise of 
those powers which at present he must be content sedu- 
lously to cultivate and keep always ready for use. 

Positive relaxation must, however, De found in one* 
way or other : I find it principally in the indulgence of 
those literary tastes which my education has given me, 
but which my present occupations do not call upon me to 
exercise. It is necessarily but a slight acquaintance with 
the passing literature of the day, that a mechanic's lei- 
sure time will enable him to keep up. Yet the hasty 
glances which I can give at the current magazines and 
reviews suffice occasionally to direct me to valuable new 
works. I confess, however, I care not for books the more* 
for being new ; and derive fully as much pleasufe, pro j 
bably as much improvement, from the reading of ouf old 
and standard authors. In the comparison of their mode>J 
of thought, expression, and action, with those of our own 
times — in tracing the advance of sound principles in 
morals and politics, I find an endless source of interest 
and pleasure. My literary pleasures are mainly confined 
to our own language, for this being attained with the 
least labour, they are the most completely a recreation 
after the day's labour. Yet my classical attainments, 
though not directly exercised, are not by any means idle. 
Those numerous classical quotations with which English 
works abound (especially those old-fashioned ones before 
alluded to), which to the mere English reader suggest no 
idea but the oft-recurring one, " Why cannot the man be 
content to talk English ?" are to me full of pleasing 
thoughts and recollections ; frequently taken from my fa- 
vourite authors, they recal the whole train of ideas in 
which they there occur, and carry back the mind to 
those pictures of antient life and manners which the 
early study of the classics so vividly represented to it 
while fancy still was young: and even if they have^ 
been culled from no higher source than that great stored * 
house of classical quotations, the Eton Grammar, what 
remembrances of childhood's woes do they call up, like 
those of iEneas, " sweet in the recollection ;" of young 
hopes, some realized, some frustrated, all sobered; of 
youthful friendships, some obliterated, others brightened 
by the rubs of subsequent life. So with classical allu- 
sions, from whatever source : they strike upon a chord 
which has not forgotten to vibrate, as long ago it learned. 
But even without direct allusion, the most common 
things in life will often carry me back to Latin and Greek, 
with their various pleasing associations. Let any one 
use a word in a sense new to me, or pronounce it in an 
unusual way, or take any improper liberty with the 
Queen's English, my mind is at once involuntarily set 
to work referring the matter in question to the original 
languages and the general principles of grammar, and 
seldom fails to satisfy itself : at the worst, it is sure to 
receive that pleasure which always arises from its health- 
ful exercise, whether successful or not. 

It is impossible that I should live in an age of the 
world so stirring as the present, without feeling a deep 
interest in the great, moral, and political questions of the 
day. However my mind may be pleased to recur to the 
pictures of the remote past, there is an exciting present 
m which it feels itself alive, and a distant future of which 
it delights to augur well — improvement ever improving 
on past experience. My education has furnished me 
with certain principles of human rights and duties, of 
political and commercial policy, established on well-con- 
sidered arguments, and tested by a pretty extensive course 
of historical reading. Of these principles I daily feel 
the value. They serve as tests by which to try the ar- 
guments of political disputants, and to judge of the acta 

« Q 

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[April 7. 

of public men : at the same time they are open to cor- 
rection themselves, when by use they appear to need 
amendment. I fancy that, thus warmly interested as I 
feel in political questions, I am in a great measure free 
from party spirit, and able in some degree to refer a dis- 
puted point to its principles, abstracting the accidental 
matters by which it is apt to be overlaid. I thus see 
much that is good, even in those diametrically opposed 
to me in opinion : nor am so blind to the faults of those 
With whom I most nearly agree, as to cry them up for 
virtues. And with respect to all, though I will not 
smooth down ouo rough corner of what appears an im- 
portant and essential prin*iple, I am disposed to judge 
leniently of men's conduct, remembering the force of 
early impressions, and making the widest allowance for 
the effect of circumstances in the formation of character. 
As a working man, it is natural that my sympathies 
should be with my class, — the producing class,— -taking 
the term in its widest sense. I look with deep interest 
on all agencies which appear in any way calculated to 
raise us as a class, in physical comfort, in moral excel- 
lence, and in social estimation. Especially do I earnestly 
seek to discover how it is that we go on year by year, 
setting to work mechanical contrivances to shorten human 
labour, without abridging our own hours of labour : and 
ask, when will the happy time arrive when half our day 
will suffice to provide for our physical wants, and the 
other half be free for the cultivation of our human nature, 
our mental and moral powers ? And sometimes the cause 
of the evil appears more clearly than the remedy by which 
it is to be removed. In my political meditations too, I 
cannot altogether be content with our exclusion from po- 
litical privileges and duties, or rather, with our capricious 
admission to them. I cannot help feeling that there are 
many of us excluded from all share of political influence, 
who are better able to judge on political subjects than 
the mass of the old freemen, or even than a large pro- 
portion of the other classes of those who are admitted 
to a share of influence under our representative system. 
And the reflection frequently occurs, how far might the 
possession of such a right, and the discharge of such a 
duty, tend to raise our character by inspiring us with 
self-respect ? To some, these may appear wild and dan- 
gerous notions for a working man to entertain. Yet, 
could they look into my heart, they would see there is no 
danger, no wildness in the case. I have not read history 
with so little attention as to have missed the lesson which 
it teaches, that great and long-standing moral evils can- 
not be removed by the sudden exertion of physical force : 
that those have been the mightiest and most lasting re- 
formations which have been effected by moral power. 
I am firmly persuaded that the readiest way to raise the 
mass of the people to comfort, to respectability, and hap- 
piness, is to cultivate their whole nature, and not the least 
their intellectual and moral powers. Give them the use 
of these, and they will not long have to complain of so- 
cial disabilities and disadvantages : their very complaint 
would remove these evils. 

With such views of the class to which I belong, and 
of its prospects, it seems to me, that all that as an indi- 
vidual I can do towards the attainment of this grand ob- 
ject, is, to spread as far as I can among my fellow-opera- 
tives the principles here advocated, and exhibit in my 
own character as favourable an example as may be, of the 
good effects of a liberal education. It is with this object 
that I have endeavoured here to give ar complete an ac- 
count as I could, in all material particulars, of the " ex- 
perience of an educated artisan," suppressing nothing 
that might serve the purposes of the opponent of popu- 
lar education, inventing nothing to gratify the advocate 
of universal enlightenment ; but only " speaking right 
on " what I daily experience as the result of the some- 
what peculiar circumstances in which I happen to have 
o«*tri placed. 

Relative Positions of Rich and Poor.— The question 
whether the rich support the poor, or the poor the rich, has 
been frequently agitated by those who are not aware that 
while each does his duty in his station, each is, reciprocally, 
a support and a blessing to the other. All are parts of one har- 
monious whole ; every part contributing to the general mass 
of happiness, if man would but endeavour to repay his debt of 
gratitude to his Creator, and, by a willing habit of useful- 
ness promote the happiness of himself and of his fellow- 
creatures. In this way the higher classes of society may, 
by superiority of power and education, do more service to 
the other parts of the community than what they receive ; 
the welfare of the poor Deing then, in truth, more promoted 
and assured by the gradations of wealth and rank than it 
ever could have been by a perfect equality of condition, even 
if that equality had not been in its nature chimerical and 
impracticable ; or (if practicable) had not been hostile and 
fatal to the industry and energy of mankind. Rank. 
power, wealth, influence, constitute no exemption from 
activity or attention to duty, but lay a weight of real accu- 
mulated responsibility on the possessor. If the poor are 
idle and vicious, they are reduced to subsist on the bene- 
volence of the rich ; and if the rich (I except those to whom 
health and ability, and not the will, is wanting) are selfish, 
indolent, and neglectful of the conditions on which they 
hold superiority of rank and fortune, they sink into a situa- 
tion worse than that of being gratuitously maintained by 
the poor. They become paupers of an elevated and distin- 
guished class; in no way personally contributing to the 
general stock, but subsisting upon the labour of the indus- 
trious cottager; and whenever Providence thinks fit to 
remove such characters, whether in high or in low life, 
whether rich or poor, the community is relieved from an 
useless burden.— Sir Thomas Bernard, 

An Arctic Winter.— As the severe weather was by this 
time over, and I had seen the thermometer, on the 17th of 
January, 102° below the freezing-point, had slept in an 
atmosphere of 82° below, ' under the canopy of heaven, 9 
with a single blanket for a covering, and baa had some ex- 
perience in snow-shoe walking, I raav be allowed to make 
a few remarks upon the intensity of cold in the inhospitable 
regions of the north, as they are termed. During a calm, 
whether the thermometer stood at 70° or 7° minus lero, 
was to me in sensation the same ; and although I hare ex- 
perienced a difference in temperature of 80° from cold to 
neat, and vice versd, in the course of twenty-four hours, 
still its change was not sufficiently oppressive to put a stop 
to my usual avocations. I have been shooting grouse at 
every range of the thermometer, from the highest to the 
lowest point, wearing the very same clothing as in England 
on a summer's day, a fur cap, moccasins, and mittens ex- 
cepted, instead of a hat, tanned leather shoes or boots, and 
kid-gloves. Merely a cotton shirt was sufficient to protect 
my breast from the most intense cold that has ever been 
registered ; and notwithstanding my waistcoats were made 
double-breasted, I never felt sufficiently cold to be under 
the necessity of buttoning them ; neither flannel nor leather 
was worn by me in any way. It must be understood* how- 
ever, that I am only speaking of the temperature during a 
calm, or when the atmosphere is but slightly in motion. 
The lowest descent of the thermometer would not prevent 
ray making an excursion of pleasure ; but a higher tempe- 
rature by 40°, accompanying a stiff breeze, would confine 
me to the house : the sensation of cold, m I have said 
before, depends so much more upon the force of the wind 
than upon the state of the thermometer. Such endurance 
may appear incredible to those persons who have read each 
ponderous quarto as it issued forth, fearful in aspect as in 
subject ; and it is no wonder. I was astonished at m ysel£ 
while sporting in a country always portrayed as unfit either 
for man or beast ; but, what was my astonishment, when, 
hopping before me from bough to bough, the lesser red-pole 
caught my sight, the little bird that so frequently adorns, in 
England, the cottager's room ! If so small a creature can 
find the climates of England and Great Slave Lake equally 
congenial to its constitution, surely man may exist there. 
A sudden transition from heat to cold produced cramps ; a 
fact well worthy the notice of those persons who are subject 
to that painful disease, — for an extra blanket or two, and a 
trusty thermometer to indicate when to put them on and 
pull them off, may save much excruciating pain and many 
restless nights. — king's Narrative. 

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[Homer. J 

This noble head is the ideal representation of Homer, 
the prince of antient poets : such as the genius of antient 
art conceived him to have been in form and feature. It 
is engraved from an antique bust of admirable workman- 
ship, contained among the Townley Marbles in the 
British Museum : and we recommend our readers to go and 
view the original, instead of being contented with our copy. 
It is hardly necessary to say that no portrait of Homer can 
possibly exist ; since he lived long before the art of imitat- 
ing men's features was invented. But as we find in Gre- 
cian sculpture a certain cast of countenance regularly given 
to the national deities, so that little or no doubt ever 
exists whether a statue is meant to represent one god or 
another, Apollo or Bacchus, Minerva or Venus, Hercules 
or Theseus, so there is a recognised countenance — how 
antient we cannot tell — ascribed to Homer, the oldest and 
most honoured of the Grecian poets. 

The bust represents him in the character in which he 
is best known — 

" The blind old man of Scio'g rocky isle" — 
with that elevated, tranquil, and reflective character 
befitting one whose inward vision was so clear and 

piercing, and mind replete with images of beauty and 

Some account of a poet so universally celebrated, and, 
by the help of translations, so universally read, cannot 
but be acceptable to a large class of our readers ; many 
of whom may be ignorant of the doubts and difficulties 
which have been raised even concerning his very exist- 
ence. We proceed therefore to give a short sketch, first 
of the traditionary accounts of Homer delivered bv 
antient authors ; and secondly, of the theories set forth 
by some modern critics concerning the origin of the 
Homeric poems — theories startling enough, and yet sup- 
ported by arguments which it is hard to refute, though 
they may scarcely have force enough to convince an un- 
willing hearer. 

A variety of stories, many of them evidently fabulous, 
have been related of the birth and life of Homer. One 
account, in the life ascribed to Plutarch, agreeably to the 
genius of the age, gives him a divine descent. Uritheis, 
a girl of the little island of Ios, in the jEgean Sea, about 
the time of the Ionic migration (b. c. 1044) became 
engaged in an amour with a demigod or daemon attend* 

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[April *7, 

ant on the Muses. Abandoning her home in shame, she 
was taken captive by robbers or pirates, was carried to 
Smyrna, and sold to Maeon, king of the Lydians, who 
married her. The name of Maeon, as his reputed parent, 
occurs in other versions of Homer's history — hence he 
is called Maeonides, the son of Maeon, as when Milton 
couples him with another bard, his fellow in misfor- 

" These other two, equalled with me in fate, 
So were I equalled with them in renown, 
Blind Thamyris and blind Maeonides." 

Pbr. Lo$t, iii. 33. 

Near Smyrna, on the banks of the river Meles, Homer 
was born ; hence the epithet or name of Melesigenes, 
born of Meles, by which he is very generally known.* 
The life of Homer written under the name of Herodotus 
makes him the grandson of Menalippus, an Athenian 
who lived at Cuma in jEolia, and whose daughter Cri- 
theis, when pregnant of Homer, married Phemius, a 
schoolmaster of Smyrna. To him Homer in due time 
succeeded; and practised his profession with reputa- 
tion and profit, until Mentes, the master of a ship, in- 
duced him to leave his home and travel. In their wan 
derings they touched at Ithaca, where Mentor, a man of 
fortune, entertained them, and related those adventures of 
Ulysses which are embodied in the Odyssey. Here be- 
gan the disease which caused Homer's blmdness. On 
this misfortune he returned to Smyrna; but found 
his place filled up and his occupation at an end. He 
removed to Cuma, where his poetical powers obtained 
praise, but not reward — the citizens alleging that they 
could not maintain all the blind men (Home'roi). Hence 
he was afterwards called by the name of Homer; of 
which, however, half a dozen more derivations, equally 
fanciful, are given. At Phocaea a schoolmaster named 
Thestorides maintained him, on condition of being allowed 
to transcribe his poems : but this faithless friend took 
the copies to Chios, and produced them as his own. 
Homer followed him thither, drove him from the field, 
obtained wealth, married, and had two daughters ; and 
in later times Chios had a family of Homeridae, who 
claimed to be the descendants of Homer, but who are 
rather esteemed to have been a society of bards, poets 
themselves, and, in addition, the professional reciters of 
the Homeric and other antient poems preserved and 
handed down by memory from father to son. It is 
further said that he died, while voyaging from Chios to 
Athens, in Ios, an island of the jEgean Sea. 

There is nothing except the allusion to the art of writ- 
ing which is manifestly fabulous in this account : we 
cannot however receive it as of historical credit, because 
there is no historical evidence in its favour, and the book 
from which it is taken is an admitted forgery. Other 
authors, to increase the pathos and wonders of the story, 
have added a variety of circumstances concerning Homer's 
wanderings, and have made him travel as a mendicant, 
earning a casual subsistence by his songs, through the 
chief cities of Greece. Many of these afterwards, when 
his fame was at its height, contended for the honour of 
having given birth to the divine poet. So one of our 
own writers — 

" Seven Grecian cities strove for Homer de »d. 

Through which the living Homer begged his bread." 

These are enumerated in a Greek epigram — 

" Smyrna, Rhodes, Colophon, Sal amis, los, Argos, Athena." 

Other cities however have laid claim to the same honour. 
Of Vomer's life, from his own writings, we know nothing. 

* * Blind Melesigenes, thence Homer calUd, 

Whose poem Phoebu6 challenged for his own.'' 

Par. Regained, iv. 259. 

Nothing concerning his personal existence can be said to 
rest on anything like historical proof. Even the time in 
which he lived is uncertain. Herodotus places it 400 
years before himself, and this agrees tolerably with the 
usually received computations, which fix him near 300 
years after the date of the Trojan war, and about 900 
before the birth of Christ. Sir I. Newton, in his system 
of chronology, brings both these dates considerably 
later. The weight of evidence, as far as it exists, leads 
us to suppose that he was born at Smyrna, and an Ionian 
by descent ; and therefore later than the great movement 
of Greeks into Asia, commonly called the Ionic migra- 
tion, which is said to have occurred b.c. 1044. All that 
is related of Homer, more particularly, is either fabulous 
narration or indirect and doubtful inference from the 
contents of his poems. Even their history is very ob- 
scure. The first fact (if it merits to be so called) con- 
cerning them is, that Lycurgus, the celebrated Spartan 
lawgiver, obtained them in Asia, and having observed 
that they abounded in moral and political rules of con- 
duct, carried them back into Greece. His age is variously 
fixed, b.c. 884 and 710. The next recorded fact is, that 
b.c. about 600, Solon, the celebrated Athenian lawgiver, 
appointed that the rhapsodists (of whom we shall speak 
presently), in contending for the prize of recitation at the 
public festivals called Panathenaea, should not recite de- 
tached portions indiscriminately, but should proceed in 
order, and that where one left off another should begin. 
The third recorded fact is, that half a century later, 
more or less, Pisistratus the Athenian, or one of his 
sons, collected and arranged in their present order the 
scattered fragments of the books of Homer. From this 
time we may consider Homer as familiar to the Greeks 
in that form, substantially, in which we now have him. 

Except the works of Hesiod, who is considered by some 
the elder, by some the contemporary, but by most the 
junior of Homer, and perhaps one or two hymns, no 
Greek poetry extant ascends nearly to the antiquity of 
the Iliad and Odyssey. After Homer, however, a class 
called Cyclic poets flourished, so called because they 
made up the whole circle of the Trojan war and its con- 
sequences, by relating the adventures of the several heroes 
concerned therein. Of their poems nothing but a few 
fragments remain. We must therefore consider them as 
much inferior in excellence to the Iliad and Odyssey,- 
which from the earliest time of which we have accounts 
of manners were the delight of the Greeks, at least of 
the Athenians, concerning whose private life we have the 
most minute information. They were taught in the 
schools, sung or recited at private entertainments, re- 
peated at public games and festivals for the delight of 
assembled meetings. So to recite them was the occupa- 
tion of a class of men called rhapsodists, from a Greek 
word which may be translated literally stitchers of sonj 9 
whose occupation has been described in the following 
terms : — " They chanted, sung, or recited poems, chiefly, 
at least in the earliest times, of their own composition, at 
the tables of prince-, and in public assemblies. They 
were held in high esteem, and even veneration, more es- 
pecially in the earliest periods. Then they were the sole 
depositaries of the religion, the moral precepts, and the 
old and favourite legends of the people among whom they 
lived. Though there were few arts distinctly marked 
out at that time as cultivated by peculiar classes, the bard. 
had a profession of his own, which was regarded as more 
venerable than any other. Whether he resided constantly 
in some principal city, or travelled through various states* 
he was looked up to as a superior being, welcomed and 
honoured at the feasts of kings, and revered as the fa- 
vourite of heaven. He moved about as a recorder of the 
old and loved traditions of the people ; and must have- 
been heard 'with delight by those in whom he Called up 
again all the associations of childhood, and who renewed, 
their happiest days in listening to his songs." 

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' Bards of this class, as appears by the introduction of 
them in the Odyssey, were held in high honour at the 
time when the Homeric poems were written. Such men, 
by constant exercise, obtained a wonderful facility and 
power of memory. It appears from Plato to have been 
no uncommon thing for an Athenian to have the whole 
of the Iliad and Odyssey by heart ; and those who were 
reciters by profession may readily be conceived to have 
possessed a much larger stock of poetical learning. Indeed 
this will seem the less remarkable, when we consider how 
many parts a popular actor of our own time will pre- 
serve distinctly and perfectly impressed on his mind. Such 
a stock of poetry a father might gradually communicate to 
his son, or a master to his pupil ; and no doubt it was by 
means of a succession of Buch men (as in the case of the 
Chian Homeridee above mentioned) that the Iliad and 
Odyssey, the most ancient compositions extant, except 
some parts of the Hebrew scriptures, were preserved 
during the ages which elapsed between their first delivery 
and the commission of them to writing. For it may now 
be considered as a settled point among learned men, that 
the use of writing in Greece, as applicable to the preser- 
vation of such compositions, was greatly subsequent to 
the Homeric age. And this brings us to the second 
branch of our subject. 

[To be continued.] 

Choice of a Profession. — Parents and friends too often 
forget that in determining the future pursuits of the young 
under their care, it is not enough that a profession be re- 
spectable or lucrative, or one in which the youth may be 
expected to succeed by means of family influence; in addi- 
tion to these circumstances, they ought to take into account 
the talents, the disposition, the natural bent of the mind of 
the individual immediately concerned ; for if this most im- 
portant item be omitted in their calculations, the probabi- 
lity is, that if he have any individuality of character, they 
will seriously mar his happiness, while endeavouring to the 
utmost of their power to promote it. — Curtis on Health. 

On Judging Justly.— A perfectly just and sound mind is 
a rare and invaluable gift. But it is still much more un- 
usual to see such a mind unbiassed in all its actings. God 
has given this soundness of mind but to few ; and a very 
small number of those few escape the bias of some predilec- 
tion, perhaps habitually operating; and none are at all 
times, and perfectly, free. I once saw this subject forcibly 
illustrated. A watchmaker told me that a gentleman had 
put an exquisite watch into his hands that went irregularly. 
It was as perfect a piece of work as was ever made. lie 
took it to pieces and put it together again twenty tunes. 
No manner of defect was to be discovered, and yet the 
watch went intolerably. At last it struck him that possibly 
the balance-wheel might have been near a magnet. On 
applying a needle to it, he found his suspicions true. Here 
was all the mischief. The steel-work in the other parts of 
the watch had a perpetual influence on its motions; and 
the watch went as well as possible with a new wheel. If 
the soundest mind be magnetised by any predilection, it 
must act irregularly. — Cecil, 


[Continued from No. 384.} 

Not only were the vessels small, but they were often 
exceedingly crowded ; and when an engagement did take 
place at sea, it was carried on in a kind of scrambling 
confusion. " In the early part of our history," says the 
* Quarterly Review,' " when artillery was unknown, the 
principles of naval tactics were disregarded, because the 
value of them could not be perceived. The ships were 
small, and their armament simple and rude ; they en- 
gaged stem to stem, or broadside to broadside ; and the 
men fought hand to hand and foot to foot. The main 
object then was the destruction of life ; and the stoutest 
and most courageous soldiers generally attained the vic- 
tory. We arc told that when Edward III. attacked the 
French fleet collected at Sluys to oppose his landing, the 
English, after pouring in a yolley of arrows, boarded the 

enemy's ships, and gained a victory with the loss of 4000 
men. Of the French more than 30,000 perished, the 
greater part of whom were driven overboard and drowned ; 
so dreadfully destructive were battles, whether by sea or 
land, when man was immediately opposed to man ! The 
victory of the Nile was obtained at the expense of 218 
men killed and 671 wounded on the side of the English ; 
and the glorious and decisive day at Trafalgar, at some- 
what less than 420 killed and 1112 wounded." The 
number of the French killed at Sluys, as given in this 
quotation, is doubtless overstated : still, reducing it to ten 
or fifteen thousand killed and drowned, which is the * 
number given in the ' Pictorial England,' the dispropor- 
tion between the blind and indiscriminate slaughter of an 
ancient naval battle, and the numbers who perish during 
the scientific and more effective struggles of modern fleets, 
is very great. On this occasion, the task of communi- 
cating the disaster to the king of France was left to his 
buffoon. "The English are but cowards," said the fool. 
" How so ?" inquired the king. " Because they had not 
the courage to leap into the sea, like the French and Nor- 
mans at Sluys." In another naval battle fought between 
the French and English in the reign of Henry V. (1416) 
off the mouth of the Seine, the French vessels were car- 
ried by boarding. " This triumph was purchased at an 
immense cost of human life ; and during the three weeks 
the English fleet lay at Harfleur, the mariners were hor • 
rified and alarmed at the ghastly spectacle of troops of 
dead bodies, which, after the usual time of submersion, 
rose and floated on the surface of the water round the 

The term " admiral," supposed to be of Eastern deri- 
vation, sprung up into use in England during the reign 
of Edward I. But the duties of that officer were not, at 
first, to command a fleet, for frequently there was no fleet 
to command ; but to look after the naval department, see 
to the care of the king's private vessels when he had any, 
and to provide a fleet when it. was required by the usual 
process of requisition and impressment. The office of 
lord-high-admiral became a permanent post, always filled ; 
for there is an uninterrupted succession of lord-high-ad- 
mirals from- the reign of Henry IV. to the period when 
the office was put in commission. Commerce was ex- 
tending even during the long and disastrous civil war 
between the rival houses of York and Lancaster ; and 
when peace was established under Henry VII. navigation 
received new impulses. Henry, cold and cautious as he 
was, did not neglect what tended to his own glory and 
profit, as well as that of the nation. He encouraged 
maritime discovery ; and left behind him the rudiments 
of the English royal navy. 

The invention of cannon, and their introduction into 
ships, led to those improvements in naval architecture 
which distinguish a ship of war from the ancient galley. 
Cannon were introduced into ships about the end of the 
fifteenth century ; they were at first mounted over the 
gunwales, but portholes were invented by a French 
builder about the year 1500. This, though a consider- 
able improvement, was for a long time not only of very 
little use, but frequently the cause of mischief. They 
were mere openings, through which the muzzles of the 
guns were thrust, leaving no room for the play of the 
cannon. Charnock, in his * Marine Architecture,' sup- 
poses that in the reign of Henry VIII. there were two 
fashions of ship-building prevalent in England ; one, the 
older and the simpler ; another derived from the Vene- 
tians, aspiring and showy, and, though leading the way 
to our ships of war, producing vessels for the time far 
less serviceable than their humbler but more useful com- 

Henry VIII. kept the Channel with his own fleet, 
maintained at his own expense ; and there is an ex- 
isting contract or indenture between him and Sir Ed- 
* « Pictorial History of England,' 

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[April ?> 1838. 

ward Howard, hid adniiral. 'the largest ship of his fleet 
•was called the Regent, of 1000 tons burthen, carrying 
*700 soldiers, gunners, and mariners. The admiral was 
to have for the maintenance of himself in diet, and for 
wages and reward, 10*. per day during the voyage ; each 
captain 1 s. 6d. ; and the soldiers, manners, and gunners, 
10 j. each lunar month for wages and victuals. A " master 
■hipwright's" daily pay is stated to have been at this 
time Id, without diet, and bd. with ; and " hewers" and 
*' clinchers" received 4d. or 6<2., with or without diet. 

While Sir Edward Howard was cruising in the English 
Channel in 1512, he fell in with the French fleet; and 
Sir Charles Brandon, afterwards Duke of Suffolk, who 
was nearest the enemy, without waiting for orders bore 
down on the Cordelier of Brest, a large vessel, carrying 
1600 men. The fire of the Cordelier dismasted Sir 
Charles Brandon's vessel; and then the Regent, the 
largest vessel of the English navy — the largest that had 
ever been built in England — took the Cordelier in hand. 
Both were huge, clumsy, unmanageable ships, the pro- 
duction of a time when the art of ship-building was just 
beginning to expand, and mete bulk was held an extra- 
ordinary quality. The two ships were engaged for up- 
wards of an hour, when another vessel came to the assist- 
ance of the Regent ; the French commander, unwilling 
that his ship should be taken, set fire to it ; and the 
flames communicating to the Regent, both were consumed. 
This was a great disaster : Sir Edward Howard vowed that 
he would never more see the face of the king till he had 
avenged the loss; and- Henry VIII. ordered a new ship 
to be built, which should, if possible, be superior to the 
vessel whichThad been lost. A new ship was accordingly 
constructed, which' was named the Henri Grace-a-Dieu. 
: • The old picture in Windsor Cattle, of which there is a 
copy* in the Naval Gallery at Greenwich, representing 
Henry in this celebrated ship, sailing across the Channel 
in 1-520, for the interview with Francis I., has given rise 
to considerable discussion. The name of the painter, 

who, it was affirmed, was Hans .Holbein— whether the 
ship was the representation of the Great Harry, or a 
vessel of a later date — with other circumstances, were all 
debated. The picture represents Henry on board a large 
four-masted ship, with two round tops on each mast. 
The king is standing on the main deck, with attendants. 
The sails and pennants of the ship are of cloth of gold ; 
the royal standard is flying on the four corners of the 
forecastle; and the arms of England and France are de- 
picted on the front of the forecastle, and also-on the ship's 
stern. On the right of the ship is a three-masted vessel, 
with her sails furled, and decorated with pennants and 
standards. A number of other vessels and small boats, 
all crowded with passengers, are introduced into the pic- 
ture. In the foreground are two circular forts, commu- 
nicating by a terrace, situated close to the water's edge ; 
these are firing a salute. Near the centre of the terrace 
is a gentlemen, supposed to be Sir Edward Poynings, 
then constable of Dover Castle, with attendants. 
. The Great Harry was rated at 1000 tons, and is &U 
down as having 122 guns, but only 34 of these were such 
as would now be admitted into the rank of guns ; the 
rest were pieces of small caliber, the largest deserving no 
higher name than swivels, and all of them distributed 
about, so as to make it a very harmless but fierce-looking 
vessel. But though the Great Harry was the wonder and 
admiration pf its day, it was but a fair-weather vessel, 
fitted only to make people stare, and be the centre of a 
holiday picture. It was ill adapted to stand a rolling sea 
or a gale of wind ; while a broadside from a modern ship 
of war might have sent it plunging tbthe bottom. Doubt- 
less the then watermen of the old school often shook their 
heads at the theoretical folly of attempting to build a ship 
so high out of water ; and as they passed it in their shal- 
lops pulled rapidly away, lest the great tottering thing 
would fall over on them. It was but little used ; lasted 
for thirty-eight years ; and was accidentally burned at 
Woolwich in 1553. 

[The Henri Qrace-i-Dieu. — From a Picture in Greenwich Hospital.] 

Printed by William Clowm and Sons, Stamford Strwrt. 

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Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[April 14, 1838. 


Military Coshlme of the Circassians.] 

Tub Adeche, or Circassians, occupy the district which 
lies between 43° 26' and 45° 25' N.'lat., and 37° 10' and ; 
42° 30' E. long. Their frontiers toward the north and 
east are the Kuban, the land of the Cossacks of the Black 
Sea, the province of Caucasia, Little Abchasia and Great 
Kabarda. Toward the south and south-west they are 
separated from Mingreliu and Abchasia by the loftiest 
chain of the Caucasus, which runs from the Elborus 
toward the Black Sea. The extreme length west and 
east, from the Liman of the Kuban to the mouth of the 
Burzukla, is about 220 miles ; and the greatest breadth 
north and south, from the mouth of the Schagdascha to 
the Redoubt of Temishbeg, is about 120 miles. The 
form of the country is that of a triangle, and its contents 
are about 14,870 square miles. 

The Circassian nation is composed of various tribes, 
whose boundaries it is impossible to define accurately, as 
they arc not at all regarded by the natives, by whom they 
are frequently altered. Though contests and even wars 
for fertile and well cultivated districts are of common 
Vol. VII. 

occurrence; no attempts are ever made to dispute moun- 
tainous or unproductive lands with their inhabitants. 
The tribes themselves can hardly be classed into distinct 
people, as they aTe undergoing a perpetual change from 
the admission of new settlers and prisoners of war, while 
the native inhabitants, from various causes, teek new 
abodes in other districts. 

- The district inhabited by the Circassians consists of 
mountain-regions and an elevated plateau. The former, 
which includes the whole southern part, comprises the 
principal chain and the offsets of the Caucasus. The 
whole northern division, which is enclosed on the east by 
a bend of the Kuban, is composed of plains and the last 
declivities of the Caucasus. 

The principal branches of the Caucasus cover the 
greater part of the surface. A very large portion too is 
occupied by thick forests of the palm, cypress, plantain, 
maple, iir, alder, poplar, and other trees, which clothe the 
declivities and mountain-valleys, and the plains and banks 
of the rivers. These forests, from the size and durability 


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of the trees, and their contiguity to the harbours of the 
Black Sea, constitute the chief riches of the country, and 
would yield immense profit under the management of a 
civilized people. 

The principal rivers of Circassia are the Atakum, 
Ubin, Karakuban or Aphibs, Su, Pschaga, Schagdascha, 
Laba, Urup, Great and Little Selentschuk, the Schiache, 
and Suebse ; all these take their rise among the loftiest 
chains of the Caucasus. Their banks are rocky and their 
course is rapid ; as they approach their mouths they in- 
crease in width, the banks become less steep, and their 
course slower. The water of these rivers is in general 
pure and salubrious, but in the mountains it is frequently 
turbid, owing to the quantity of clay, earth, and sand 
which they wash down in the rainy seasons. 

The whole of the left bank of the Kuban, from the 
point where it receives the Great Selentschuk to its mouth, 
is bordered by large, fertile, and extremely picturesque 
valleys covered with woods. On descending to the Rus- 
sian side of the river the contrast between the two dis- 
tricts is very striking. The Tschernomorisky bank ap- 
pears savage, overgrown with low brushwood, destitute 
of woods, and very sandy ; while the opposite Circassian 
bank rises into view, embellished with its beautiful plains 
and woods, and clothed with luxuriant verdure. 

The district between the mountains consists, for the 
most part, of strata of sand and clay, interspersed with 
strips of stony ground quite unfit for cultivation. The 
northern and eastern parts of the country abound in fruit- 
ful fields, which are composed of pure mould, occa- 
sionally mixed with sand and clay, and watered by nu- 
merous streams and rivers. Here nature amply rewards 
the toil of the labourer ; but unhappily the greater por- 
tion of these fields lie uncultivated, or serve as pastures 
for the numerous herds of cattle kept by the natives. 

The principal Caucasian chain, which forms the south- 
western boundary, and many of its northern offsets, 
contain rich veins of metal. But the natives, notwith- 
standing their desire to possess such metals as are ne- 
cessary for the manufacture of their arms, are unable, 
from their ignorance of science, to work any mines ex- 
cept such as require but little trouble. In this way they 
obtain silver, lead, copper, and iron ; the latter is found 
in a pure state in the form of coarse grains at the foot of 
the Nogokossog mountain, near the sources of the Schag- 
dascha. Some mountain-streams contain salt, but in very 
Bmall quantities ; saltpetre is obtained from a plant which 
resembles the Chenopodiwn rubrum ; and near the source 
of the Schiache a variegated marble is found. 

Of the vegetable kingdom, we may mention the peach, 
apricot, apple, pear, and cherry ; and the vine, as well as 
the mulberry, the leaves of which are now used for rear- 
ing the silk-worm, from which silk is manufactured for 
home consumption ; also wheat, rye, barley, pulse, to- 
bacco, and various fruits and vegetables. The laurel 
flourishes along the shores of the Black Sea. 

The animals found here are the wild boar in the 
marshy lands, the stag, wild goat, saiga (Tartarian an- 
telope), and the argali, or wild sheep; the domestic 
animals are oxen of a very fine breed, horses, asses, and 
sheep of a peculiar breed, with broad tails : the moun- 
tain horses are remarkable for their fleetness and beauty. 
The Circassians have fine studs for breeding horses, 
with the management of which they are thoroughly ac- 

Along the whole northern and eastern frontiers of Cir- 
cassia are roads of communication for native carriages 
called arba; the summer season is however the only pe- 
riod when they are open, as the overflowing of the rivers 
readers them inaccessible during the spring and autumn, 
as does the snow in winter. 

The mountains and the vicinity of the sea render the 
climate extremely variable. The districts called Great 
*»«id Little Kabarda are very temperate and fertile, and 

fAl>RIL 14, 

are equal to the finest portions of Italy. An early spring 
clothes the hills and plains with luxuriant verdiire and 
flowers, and the more shady spots with a blue mantle 
of violets. In April, the cherry, apricot, pear, apple, 
and almond-tree are in full blossom, and in May the first 
fruits are ripe. In February the husbandman sows 
wheat, rye, pulse, and rice, which yield an ample crop at 
the beginning of July. The plains, which are sheltered 
from the sea-breezes by ridges of mountains, are sub- 
ject to an intolerable heat. In the defiles, which are 
watered by the mountain-streams, the air is cool even 
in- summer, but excessively cold during winter, par- 
ticularly in the valleys, which are screened from the 
west wind. The districts along the sea are liable to 
the unwholesome influence of sea winds and fogs, which 
frequently produce contagious diseases, especially in the 
neighbourhood of Anapa, whence they spread into the 

The prevailing religion is the Sunnite Mohammedan ; 
some few are Shiites, and a still smaller number are 
worshippers of the sun, but we meet with frequent traces 
of the previous existence of Christianity and heathenism ; 
the former especially stands out in strongly defined traits, 
notwithstanding the gloomy fanaticism of the Mohamme- 
dan creed, and popular ignorance and prejudice. It is 
singular that the Circassians, upon a close examination, 
observe many Christian festivals in honour of the Re- 
deemer and the Virgin Mary. They have spring fasts 
nearly of the same duration as ours, on the termination 
of which they commemorate the day of the appearance of 
God, when the women are permitted to pray with the 
men. On this occasion all the people assemble : they 
make mutual presents of variegated eggs, and shoot at a 
mark, which is always a coloured egg ; the person who 
hits it receives from the owner a similar egg. Customs 
like these prove that the Circassians retain a recollection 
of Lent and Easter ; they call Wednesday and Friday 
the great and little fasts, and Sunday God's day, when 
all work is laid aside. Their veneration for the symbol 
of the cross is also remarkable; whatever the farmer 
leaves exposed in the field is inviolably sacred if he erects 
a cross above it; and notwithstanding the predaceous 
habits of the people, no one ventures to touch property 
placed under this protection. Among families who have 
not wholly embraced I slam ism, it is usual to fix a small 
board against the wall, holding a piece of wax and a 
napkin. On festivals they make the wax into a taper, 
to which they set light, and, taking off their caps, kneel 
down before it. These. remarks apply more especially 
to the tribes living on the shores of the Black Sea and 
in the plains near the Kuban. 

It is not known at what period or by whom Christianity 
was introduced into the Caucasus ; tradition ascribes it 
to some Crusaders who had fled from Palestine. It is 
stated by Major Hany, an engineer in the French service, 
and probably the only European who has ever penetrated 
so far, that the small tribe Khevsour, near the Ossetes, 
wear a Maltese cross of red cloth on their dress, and 
that a similar cross is painted on their iron shields. 
Several French names, such as Devilete, Guillot, &c, are 
also common among this tribe. According to some 
authorities the apostle St. Andrew first preached Chris- 
tianity among the Circassians, a supposition which is 
supported by the number of St. Andrew's crosses found 
in the Caucasus. In the beginning of the fourth cen- 
tury, during the reign of Constantine the Great, a woman 
of the name of Nona, or Nina, propagated Christianity 
in Georgia, and probably also in Circassia. She con- 
verted the people by her miraculous cures, and carried a 
cross which was made of the tendrils of the vine and 
bound together by her own hair. In the year 1720, 
during the terror of an invasion from the Turks, this 
cross was Eent for security into the mountains, whence it 
came to Moscow, and was afterwards restored to Georgia 

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by the emperor Alexander. In the 13th century a 
woman called Tamara, whom tradition calls a great queen 
of Georgia, built churches among the Ossetes, and pro* 
bably also in some other places in the Caucasus. The 
Genoese too must have contributed to spread Christianity 
on the coast of Circassia. 

Among a nation, however, ignorant of written charac- 
ters, we can hardly look for any general diffusion of 
religion. Since the times of the conquests of Mohammed II. 
the Turks and Tartars have laboured to spread Mohamme- 
danism among the Circassians, and have converted many 
of the higher classes. In the tribes inhabiting the moun- 
tains and deep valleys heathenism prevails, but blended 
with Mohammedan observances. The priests of the 
heathen ^^^ however, do not form a distinct class in 
Circassia. r £heir youtlj is passed amid the din of arms, 
and on the approach of an enemy they take part in the 
combat. TOiey , perform their rehgious rites with the 
head uncovered, and dressed in a purka, or white hair- 
mantle. Standing before a cross they commence their 
ceremonies by sacrificing a goat or a lamb ; on great 
occasions they offer a bullock. Previous to the sacrifice 
a priest burns, before one of the tapers which are attached 
to the foot of the cross, some of the hair of the victim, 
taken from the place where it is to receive the fatal 
stroke, and then pours J3ouza upon its head. Several 
young persons, generally slaves, stand behind the prjest, 
holding in tneir hands goblets filled with this drinft and 
slices of unleavened brea<| and cheese. The priest then 
sacrifices in turn to eacji #f the different divinities, to 
whom distinct prayers are addressed. After this the 
priest, according to his option, appoints another day for a 
repetition of the ceremonies, commonly the Saturday, 
Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday of the ensuing week, never 
on any of the other three days. The priest also pro- 
claims what articles have been lost or found— the latter 
however is not a frequent announcement, as the Circas- 
sians do not like to restore what they have once possessed. 
The flesh of the sacrifice is then eaten, and to this are 
added the provisions brought by the various persons 
present ; the whole is concluded with dances, games, and 
races. The head of the victim is dedicated to the Crea- 
tor, and is suspended to a pole or branch of a tree, near 
the cross ; the skin is the perquisite of the priest. 

[To be continued.] 


LFrom a Correspondent.] 

In No. 376 of the ' Penny Magazine,' under the head of 
*' Domestic Waters," a short sketch of the various Water 
Companies of London was given, and some remarks were 
made on the quality of the Thames water, in reference 
particularly to the complaints of its impurity. We have 
been since supplied witn the following information as to 
the efforts made by some of the Companies to remove the 
cause of such complaints. 

For some years past, and, we believe, before Mr. 
Telford made his report of the supply of pure water that 
may be obtained from the Verulam, or Coin River, the 
Directors of the West Middlesex Water-Works had 
turned their attention to this important subject, and a 
series of experiments was making to ascertain the qua- 
lity of Thames Water drawn from that river at Hammer- 
smith (where their engine-house is situated), after being 
subjected to filtration on a large scale. The result 
proved so satisfactory, and the quality of the water ob- 
tained from this process was so pure, that the Company 
purchased a large tract of land on the Surrey shore, ex- 
tending from the Hammersmith Suspension Bridge a 
considerable distance up the river towards Barnes, where 
they are now constructing, and have nearly completed, 
t^vo capacious reservoirs, which may be compared to 
gigantic filtering machines ; and the earth appears to be 
admirably adapted for this purpose, being a fine deep 

gravel. Into the uppermost of these reservoirs the water 
will be admitted from the Thames, where it will remain 
for a sufficient time to settle and purify ; it will then be 
suffered to flow through a channel into the lower reser- 
voir, where it will again remain until drawn off by the 
engines (through, immense cast-iron cylinders laid across 
under the bed of the river) to the basins at Kensington 
and Barrow Hill. It is probable that the water so sup- 
plied will be of the finest and most healthful quality for 
all culinary and domestic purposes, and equal to what 
could have been obtained from the Coin River or any 
other source. 

The Grand Junction Water Company are also laying 
down, at a vast expense, new 30-inch iron mains from 
their station at Paddington along the Uxbridge, Shep- 
herd's Bush, and Great Western Roads, a distance of 
six or seven miles, to the east end of Brentford opposite 
to Kew, where thev are now erecting engine-houses, &c, 
to draw a supply of water from the Thames at that place. 
Whether it is a part of their plan to adopt similar means 
for its purification to those employed by the West Mid- 
dlesex Company, or any other method,- we are not aware ; 
but should suppose something of the kind is intended, 
otherwise they would have extended their mains above 
the town of Brentford, which contains several large dis- 
tilleries, gas and soap-works, &c. 

Primitive Mode of Advertising.— There is a very simple 
and very ancient way of assembling the people jn Norway 
for public business. A budstick, or message-stick, of the 
size and shape of our constable's baton, is painted and 
stamped with the royal arms, and made hollow, with a head 
to screw .on upon one end, and an iron spike on the other. 
The official notice to meet, the time, place, and object, are 
written on a piece of paper, which is roiled up and placed 
in the hollow. This is delivered from the public office or 
court-house of the district to the nearest householder, who 
is bound by law to carry it within a certain time to his 
nearest neighbour, who must transmit it to the next, and 
so on. In case of two houses equally distant, it must be 
previously determined by the foged at which he shall de- 
liver it. If the owner is not at home, he is to stick it " in 
the house- father's great chair, by the fire-side;" and if the 
door be locked, must fasten it to the outside. Each is 
bound to prove, if required, at what hour he received, de- 
livered, or stuck it. He who, by his neglect, has prevented 
others from receiving the notice in time to attend the 
meeting, pays a fine for each person so absent. There are 
fixed stations at which the "budstick" rests for the nieht, 
and it cannot be carried after sunset or before sunnse. 
The householder to whom it comes last takes it back to the 
office. In a country so extensive, with its population scat- 
tered in valleys, divided by uninhabited " Fjelde," and witli 
few paths of communication, this primitive sort of gazette 
is the most expeditious mode of publication. In the 
Highlands of Scotland, the stick, burnt at one end, and 
with blood on the other, was a similar device for assembling 
a clan in arms. — Leung's Norway. 

Population and Food. — Other circumstances being the 
same, it may be affirmed that countries are populous 
according to the quantity of human food which they pro* 
duce or can acquire ; and happy, according to the liberality 
with which this food is divided, or the quantity which a 
day's labour will purchase. Corn countries are more 
populous than pasture countries, and rice countries more 
populous than corn countries. But their happiness does 
not depend either upon their being thinly or fully inha- 
bited, upon their poverty or their riches, their youth or 
their age ; but on the proportion which the population and 
food bear to each other. This proportion is generally the 
most favourable in new colonies, where the knowledge and 
industry of an old state operate on the fertile unappro- 
propriated land of a new one. In other cases the youth 
or the age of a state is not, in this respect, of great im- 
portance. It is probable that the food of Great Britain is 
divided in more liberal shares to her inhabitants at the 
present period than it was two thousand, three thousand, 
or four thousand years ajro. And it has appeared that the 
poor and tliinly inhabited tracts of tho Scotch Highlands 
are more distressed by a redundaut j^opulation than thO 
most populous parts of Europe.— Rev. T. P. Malthus. 


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[April M» 


[The Wild Boar.] 

The common wild boar, which is considered to be the 
root of the domestic hog in all its varieties, is found ge- 
nerally in the temperate regions of Europe, Asia, and the 
northern parts of Africa. But the wild hoar of southern 
and central Africa, commonly called the engallo, differs 
from the common wild boar in several important respects. 
" The engallo is, perhaps, the most hideous of all mam- 
mals in appearance. It resembles the elephant in the 
form and structure of its molar teeth. Of these there 
are never more than two in each jaw ; they are not re- 
newed, as in ordinary quadrupeds, by the new one grow- 
ing under the old, and gradually pushing it out of the 
socket ; but the young tooth is formed in this case be- 
hind the old one, and gradually advances forward and' 
assumes its situation, as the latter is worn down by con- 
stant use." 

We are not acquainted with all the varieties of the 
African boar, naturalists being in doubt as to the identity 
of one or two species. The masked boar of the Cape is 
thus described in Smith's Cuvier : — 

" The masked boar is a native of the Cape, nearly the 
size of the European boar, and has all its proportions. 
The only distinction is id the fleshy protuberances. From 
the head to the eyes it is of the usual figure, but from 
under the eyes commences this protuberance, which gra- 
dually diminishes towards the snout. Thus there ap- 
pear to be two heads, the half of the one being as it were 
inclosed in the other. The peculiar characters of the 
skull correspond with this facial mask." 

There is a specimen in the South African Museum, 
which is thus described : — 

M Phascochceruf Africanus. — The Vlacke Varh of the 
Gape colonists. When disturbed in its retreats* and 

more especially when hunted, it is a very dangerous 
animal ; for though it will not turn out of its way to give 
chase, it will, if brought to bay, or directly encountered 
during its flight, use its formidable tusks with great 
ferocity ; and it has been known to cut with one stroke 
completely through the fleshy part of a man's thigh. 

" In the frontier districts of the colony, where some few 
are still to be found, they rarely venture to seek their 
food during the day ; but in the countries inhabited by 
natives, who are destitute of the efficient arms of the 
colonists, they are at all times to be met, though their 
favourite feeding times are early in the morning and late 
in the evening, or even during the night, especially in 

" The flesh of the Wild Pig is used as food by the 
colonists, the Hottentots, and the Bechuanas; but not by 
the Coast Caflres, who are much more particular as to. 
what they eat than any of the other natives of South 
Africa, and regard as an inferior class all persons who 
consume as food the articles they reject. 

" The name of hog or pig has been sometimes given 
to animals which differ essentially. Thus the Europeans 
have called the cavey the water-hog. The animal im- 
properly called a Guinea-pig among ourselves, and cochan 
(Tlnde by our neighbours, is known to be one of the 
glires, or rodentia. The Tatous are called hogs in armour 
by the Spaniards. The Dutch of the Cape call the por- 
cupine the iron-hog. The porpoise has been called the 
sea-hog, and the same name has been given by Molina 
to a species of the Phoca." The genus Sus may be 
considered as including, after the animal commonly 
known as the hog or swine, the African hog, the baby- 
roussa, and the peccary. r 

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[Continued from No. 386.] 

A notion which had been started before, but only to 
be laughed at, was revived in the last half of the last cen- 
tury, that no such person as Homer ever had existed, 
and that the Iliad and Odyssey were a collection of na- 
tional legendary tales, versified and preserved by a suc- 
cession of rhapsodists, and finally moulded into the form 
in which we now have , them by Solon or Pisistratus, 
near 600 years before Christ. Wolf and Heyne, two 
celebrated German critics and scholars, have displayed 
great learning and ingenuity in support of this opinion, 
which, startling as it seems, and adverse to those feelings 
of almost superstitious veneration which in all ages men 
have been taught to entertain towards Homer, as a genius 
not only above his own, but above all subsequent ages, 
excelling no less in the refinements of poetical art than in 
force of language and power of imagination, has yet of 
late years obtained extensive acceptation among those 
best qualified to form a judgment on so shadowy a sub- 
ject. It is argued — 

1. That nothing is more improbable thaiv that in a 
rude age, without models, the genius of one man should 
have produced works which by the confession of all have 
never been equalled ; which by critics, partial, perhaps, 
have been regarded as masterpieces no less of art than 
of<genius; and which have been the type from which all 
later epic poems have been framed, and from Btudy of 
which the rules of epic poetry have been extracted. 

2. That siuce we do not hear of laws or public records 
being committed to writing until long after the composi- 
tion of these poems, and since the first method of writing 
was the laborious and cumbersome process of engraving 
on wood, stone, or metal, it is impossible to suppose that 
Homer had the means of writing down 15,000, nay 
30,000 verses. Nor is it less impossible to suppose that 
the most piercing genius and accurate memory could 
conceive, adhere to, and fill up in all its richness of de- 
tail and uniformity of design, so vast a whole as that of 
the Iliad and Odyssey, without possessing the power of 
noting down his thoughts as they occurred, and referring 
from time to time to what had gone before. 

3. Having established on such grounds as these the 
improbability that the. Iliad and Odyssey were' the com- 
position of one man in a rude state of society, they argue 
that a thing so improbable requires the strongest evidence 
in its support. Nothing however can be more shadowy 
and uncertain than the evidence even as to the very ex- 
istence of Homer ; his birth, his country, his age, being 
all matters of controversy ; his personal history absolutely 
unknown. He is truly the " shadow of a name," known 
in his poems, and in them only. Nay the evidence, as 
far as it goes, is rather against the supposition that these 
poems were the work of one man. At the earliest times 
when we have any account of them, we find them not as 
a whole, nor in their present arrangement, but in de- 
tached pieces, suited for unconnected recitation; and 
the arrangement of these pieces into their present form is 
distinctly referred to a comparatively later date, and to a 
person altogether different from the presumed author. 
Homer himsejf (if there was a Homer) must have drawn 
upon the stores of earlier bards for the adventures of his 
heroes ; for it is supposed by none that he invented the 
history of the Trojan war, or that he was contemporary 
with those who were engaged it. It is therefore most 
natural to suppose that the rhapsodists, or bards, who 
are referred to in the Homeric poems, and whom we 
know to have been the preservers, were also in early times, 
the authors of these poems, which passing continually 
through the minds of persons engaged upon the same 
subjects and imbued with the same spirit, assumed gra- 
dually a more polished appearance and a more connected 
form; until at last some superior mind, Solon or Pisis- 
uitusj completed the arrangement, and gave us the Iliad 

and Odyssey such as they now exist. This theory is 
scarcely consistent with that unity of design and perfec-r 
tion of art which Aristotle and other critics attribute to 
the poems in question ; but then that unity of design is 
equally destroyed by the concurrent judgment of modern 
critics, that many portions of what Aristotle conceived to 
be the genuine works of Homer are really interpolations 
of a later age. It is not our province here to enter into 
so abstruse a subject ; but we may point out passages 
which have been suspected, some by one critic, some by 
another : — in the Iliad, the fifth and the last six books, the 
night expedition of Ulysses and Diomed, the combat of 
Hector and Ajax, the description of the shield of Achilles ; 
in the Odyssey, the last book, and part of the last but one, 
and the summoning of the shades of the dead by Ulysses. 
Those who wish to inquire into this subject will find 
it most fully treated in the notes and essays contained in 
Wolf's and Heyne's editions of Homer. , The English 
reader may find a summary of the arguments on each 
side in the ' Encyclopaedia Metropolitan,' historical divi- 
sion, vol. i. It is however only with those who have 
been trained to doubt by long research in those early 
periods of history where all is doubtful, that such an 
hypothesis as Wolf's is likely to find favour. The beauty 
of the poem is indeed unaffected by the consideration of 
who wrote it. But we cannot transfer our attachment 
and reverence for the one great bard, all powerful and 
venerable in Ins infirmity and misfortune, to a joint-stock 
company; and the loss of the individual Homer from 
among the master-spirits of the human race is like losing 
one of the brightest stars out of our firmament. 

A later German writer, Miiller, has returned nearly 
to the ancient faith on this Subject. He considers it as 
certain, that before the age of Homer and Hesiod poetry 
had been cultivated and a national mythology established"; 
that the names, attributes, and actious of gods and heroes 
were settled and received as articles of popular belief ; 
and that the form and measure of the epic poem were 
already fixed, when Homer gave to epic poetry its first 
great impulse. Before that time, in general only single 
actions and adventures were celebrated in short lays ; as 
for example, the ballad of Chevy Chace is one of many 
traditions which might have been worked up into a poem 
on the enmity between the houses of Douglas and Percy. 
But the heroic mythology of the Greeks had prepared 
the way for their poets by grouping the deeds of the 
principal heroes into large masses, so that they had a na- 
tural connexion with each other, and a known place in 
reference to some well known history. As for example, 
the whole story of the Trojan war being universally fa- 
miliar, the poet or rhapsodist might start at once upon 
any single adventure, such as the combat of Hector and 
Ajax, or the night expedition of Ulysses and Diomed, 
without preface to say who the actor's were, or how they 
came to be so employed. " Thus doubtless for a long 
time the bards were satisfied with illustrating single points 
of the heroic mythology with brief epic lays. It was also 
possible, if it was desired, to form from them longer series 
of adventures of the same hero ; but they always re- 
mained a collection of independent poems on the same, 
subject, and never attained to that unity of character and 
composition which constitutes one poem. It was an en- 
tirely new phenomenon, which could not fail to make 
the greatest impression, when a poet selected a subject of 
the heroic tradition, which (besides its connexion with the 
other parts of the same legendary cycle) had in itself the 
means of awakening a lively interest, and of satisfying 
the mind ; and at the same time admitted of such a de- 
velopment that the principal personages could be repre 
sented as acting each with a peculiar and individual cha- 
racter, without obscuring the chief hero and the main 
action of the poem." 

We must refer to the work just quoted (' History of the 
Literature of Ancient Greece,-' ch. v., published in the 

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[April 14, 

Library of Useful Knowledge, No. 209, for a view of the 
degree of art with which the poet has elaborated and 
adhered to his great and novel design ; and conclude this 
part of the subject with Muller's view of the difficulties 
which have been raised, as to the impossibility of com- 
posing such poems except through the medium of writing. 
" These difficulties arise much more from our ignorance 
of the period, and our incapability of conceiving a crea- 
tion of the mind without those appliances of which the 
use has become to us a second nature, than in the general 
laws of the human intellect. Who can determine how 
many thousand verses a person, thoroughly impregnated 
with his subject, and absorbed in the contemplation of it, 
might produce in a year, and confide to the faithful 
memory of disciples devoted to their master and his art ? 
But it is at least certain, that it would be unintelligible 
how these great epics were composed, unless there had 
been occasions on which they actually appeared in their 
integrity, and could charm an attentive hearer with the 
full force and effect of a complete poem. Without a 
connected and continuous recitation they were not finished 
works; they were mere disjointed fragments, which 
might by possibility form a whole. But where were 
there meals or festivals long enough for such recitations ? 
What attention, it has been asked, could be sufficiently 
sustained in order to follow so many thousand verses ? 
If, however, the Athenians could at one festival hear in 
succession about nine tragedies, three satiric dramas, and 
as many comedies, without ever thinking that it might 
be better to distribute this enjoyment over the whole 
year, why should not the Greeks of* earlier times have been 
able to listen to the Iliad and Odyssey, and, perhaps 
other poems, at the same festival? Let us beware of 
measuring, by our loose and desultory reading, the in- 
tension of mind with which a people enthusiastically de- 
voted* to such enjoyments hung with delight on the 
flowing strains of the minstrel. In short, there was a 
time (and the Iliad and Odyssey are the records of it) 
when the Greek people, not indeed at meals, but at fes- 
tivals, and under the patronage of their hereditary princes, 
heard and enjoyed these and other less excellent poems, 
as they were intended to be heard and enjoyed, viz. as 
complete wholes. Whether they were at this early pe- 
riod ever recited for a prize, and in competition with 
others, is doubtful, though there is nothing improbable 
in the supposition. But when the conflux of rhapsodists 
to the contests became perpetually greater ; when, at the 
same time, more weight was laid on the art of the reciter 
than on the beauty of the well known poem which he 
recited ; and when lastly, in addition to the rhapsodizing, 
a number of other musical and poetical performances 
claimed a place, then the rhapsodists were permitted to 
repeat separate parts of poems, in which they hoped to 
excel ; and the Iliad and Odyssey (as they had not yet 
been reduced to writing) existed for a time only as scat- 
tered and unconnected fragments. And we are still in- 
debted to the regulator of the contest of rhapsodists at 
the Panathenrea (whether it were Solon or Pisistratus) for 
having compelled the rhapsodists to follow one another, 
according to the order of the poem, and for having thus 
restored these great works, which were falling into frag- 
ments, to their pristine integrity." 

It may assist the reader in conceiving how, in the 
furnace of one powerful mind, the unconnected tales of 
earlier times may have been refined and moulded into 
symmetry, if we again take an example from that part 
of our own island in which poetry, of old time, seems to 
have struck the deepest root in the hearts of the people, — 
the border counties of England and Scotland. The bor- 
der ballads, rude, and inferior in the degree, are yet, we 
may conjecture, similar in the character of their excel- 
lence to the poetic legends out of which the Iliad and 
the Odyssey were composed. In either case it was of 
the heart that the mouth spake : what the poet felt, that 

he said, passing over nothing, that was in place and na- 
tural, because k was below the dignity of poetry ; for in 
those days conventional dignities were not invented. 
There is the same natural simplicity of language, as well 
as incident, the same recurrence of indifferent passages, 
designed either as connecting links to refresh the memory 
of the hearers, or to give the reciter an opportunity of 
collecting his thoughts on what was to come, while he 
ran mechanically over a family passage. We do not 
mean to equal the chroniclers of the petty chiefs of 
a wild country with the rhapsodists who sung to princes 
and nations the wars of heroes—or to place Walter Scott 
(though honoured and beloved) on a level with Homer. 
Yet in the growth of his genius we fancy that an illus- 
tration of the way in which Muller supposes the Iliad 
to have been formed may be traced. No one ever sup- 
posed Scott the inventor of the stories which he has am- 
plified and beautified so zealously. Imbued from in- 
fancy with the ballad legends of his border home, the 
materials of his poetry were all prepared ; not got up for 
the occasion, like the antiquarian researches of most mo- 
dern novelists, but part and parcel of the man, wrought, 
with the feelings and prejudices which belonged to 
them, into his very nature. The characters and events 
of his first poem are historical in the same sense as 
those of Homer — derived from the history of oral tra- 
dition. The feud between the houses of Buccleugh and 
Cranstoun, arising from the strife " of that unhallowed 
morn, when first the Scott and Carr were foes," which is 
the foundation of the poem ; the untimely death of the 
bold Buccleugh ; " belted Will Howard;" the brave old 
knight of Harden, who 

• in age still spurned at rest, 

And still his brows the helmet pressed, 

Albeit the blanched locks below 

Were white at Dinlay's spotless snow*— 

with his five stately sons ; the Flower of Yarrow ; the 
" stout moss-trooping Scot, William of Deloraine, good 
at need," an epithet thoroughly Homeric ; Wat Tinlinn, 
the borderer, whose appearance is the signal of blows and 
blood, and who laments so touchingly the interruption 
of his long established peaceful security — 

" They crossed the Liddel at curfew-hour, 
And burned my little lonely tower ; 
The fiend confound their souls therefor: 
// hath not been burned this year\and m»re" 

The supernatural machinery, the wizard Michael Scot, 
the elfin page, — all these were separately recorded in the 
ballads upon which the poet's youth was fed, but woven 
into a harmonious whole by his single skill. In one im- 
portant respect the comparison fails, Scott wrote for a 
public estranged in sympathies and manners, and igno- 
rant of the men and incidents of whom he wrote ; and 
therefore though the spirit of those " riding days" was 
strong in him, he wrote with constraint and wants the 
perfect simplicity and truthfulness which we admire iu 
the ballads rfnd in Homer. Had he lived two hundred 
years sooner, and bent himself to mould the songs and 
traditions of his native land into a great poem, while the 
audience which he addressed were familiar with the sub- 
ject and manners to be described, and possessed with 
the same feelings and affections as the poet, the result, 
we imagine, might have been something more truly 
Homeric than anything the world has seen since the days 
of the rhapsodists. 

In farther illustration of the subject, we may refer tp 
the Poem of the Cid — an antient Spanish romance, com- 
posed apparently while the actions of that celebrated 
warrior were still fresh in the memory of Ins country- 
men ; and mil of the plain-spoken raciness of the old 
time. The knights abuse each other as heartily as Aga- 
memnon and Achilles :— ' 

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* Fernando, yon have lied, you have lied in every word: 

You have been honoured by the Cid, and favoured and preferred. 

1 knew of all your tricks, and can tell them to your face. 

Do you remember, in Valentia, the skirmish, and the chase ? 

You asked leave of the Cid to make the first attack : 

You went to meet a Moor, but you soon came running back. 

I met the Moor and killed him, or he would have killed yon ; 

I gave you up his arms, and all that was my due. 

Up to this very hour I never said a word ; 

You praised yourself before the Cid, and I stood by and heard 

How you had killed the Moor, and done a valiant act; 

And they believed you all, but they never knew the fact. 

You are tall enough and handsome, but cowardly and weak ; 

Thou tongue without a hand, how can you dare to speak ?" 

These verses, rough and irregular, are a close imita- 
tion of the original in metre, as in spirit. With our 
English translators of epic poems, the heroic measure, as 
it is called, the ten-syllable couplet, always has been the 
favourite. It has been urged " that the genius of the 
English language is far more favourable to the eight- 
syllable, or ballad measure, and that the best poets have 
not always been able to protract it into the ten-syllable 
verse, without the use of epithets which are, to say the 
least, unnecessary," and the instance selected in support 
of this position, — the first six lines of Pope's Iliad, — is 
at least a happy one. They run thus :— 

" Achilles' wrath, to Greece the direful spring 
Of woes unnumbered, heavenly Goddess, sing; 
That wrath, which sent to Pluto's gloomy reign 
The souls of mighty chiefs, in battle slain, 
Whose limbs, unburied on the fatal shore, 
Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore." 

Here every word in Italics, except " rmWr," is a mere 
interpolation ; the following is a literal version of the 
Greek : — " Sing, Goddess, the wrath of Achilles, son-of- 
Peleus, Destructive, which on the Greeks placed ten 
thousand sorrows, And many mighty souls of heroes 
sent before their time to the world below, But made 
themselves the prey of dogs And of all birds." And it 
will be observed, that by leaving out these superfluous 
epithets the passage runs into fluent eight-syllable verse. 
It may perhaps not unreasonably be hoped, that some one 
thoroughly versed in the ballad poetry of our own and 
other nations may hereafter execute a translation of 
Homer more true to the spirit of the original than any 
that has yet appeared. Meanwhile our language abounds 
in translations, most of them possessed of merit, none 
quite satisfactory. Chapman comes earliest, in a fourteen- 
syllable verse — the common eights and sixes of our 
psalms and ballads run into one. He has caught much 
of the fire, but lacks the harmony and beauty of the 
original. Ogilby is greatly inferior. Old Hobbes, the phi- 
losopher of Malmesbtiry, has contrived, in ten-syllable 
verse, to turn Homer into prose moTe effectually than could 
have been imagined. Dryden, as usual, is nervous, and 
often happy, but wants fidelity and a perception of the spirit 
of his author. Pope has. produced an ornate and elegant 
poem, happy in many passages, but too elaborate, diffuse, 
unfaithful, and as unlike the original, in tone and spirit, 
as a play of Racine is unlike a play of Sophocles. Cow- 
per*s translation, in blank-verse, is simple, faithful, scholar- 
like, often admirable; but his blank-verse has not the 
sounding march of Homer's hexameters, and, as a whole, 
it reads but dully. The latest version, Sotheby's, unites 
faithfulness, spirit, and elegance, in a higher degree, we 
think, than any other which has been yet produced. 

One class of doubters, who have not denied the personal 
existence of Homer, hold the Iliad and Odyssey to be 
the works of different authors. This theory has never 
met with much favour, and we shall not go into the 
arguments on which it rests. On the other hand, several 
things have been ascribed to Homer which modern 
critics agree in rejecting. These are, the Hymns to 
several deities, a collection of epigrams, and the Battle of 
the Frogs and Mice, a mock-heroic poem. The Hymns 
appear to have beea later than the Iliad and Odyssey, 

and of various dates. Muller supposes them to have 
served, the shorter as introductions to the recitations of 
the rhapsodists ; the longer as preludes to those contests 
of rhapsodists for a prize, which were held on solemn 
occasions as the public games. The Battle of the Frogs 
and Mice is probably of much later date. 

The high price of silk, consequent on the trouble and ex- 
pense of rearing the silk-worm, has induced scientific 
persons in Europe to turn their attention to the produc* 
tion of some other substance which might possess the 
same qualities and be procurable at a cheaper rate. The 
silk of the spider, not the cobweb, but the silky thread 
which the female spins round her eggs, was tried in 
France in the last century ; a very fair silk was pror 
duced, of which specimens are shown in some collections 
of curiosities in this country : but the feeding and keep- 
ing spiders was found to be a task of great difficulty ; the 
quarrelsome disposition of the insects was easily roused, 
they were constantly fighting, and numbers were killed 
daily. This caused the experiment :o oe abandoned. 

The Pinna maritirna, a shell-fish found in the Medi- 
terranean, also produces a thread, of which a very strong 
and beautiful silk maybe made. A manufacture of this 
material existed some years since. at Palermo, at which 
caps, gloves, and stockings were made ; but the produce 
is much dearer than the silk of the common mulberry- 
worm, and it is not probable that it can ever be found 
in sufficient quantities to be anything more than an ob- 
ject of curiosity. 

In the Austrian dominions, the Saturnia Pyri, a moth 
found in Tyrol, Switzerland, and Styria, has been found 
to produce a silky material ; but it is weak, and great 
difficulty is experienced in rearing the caterpillar, which 
dies if it is not constantly attended. 

The warm climate and prodigious variety of insects of 
the southern parts of Asia has recently induced Eu- 
ropeans to examine such parts of that quarter of the 
world as are open to them, with a view to finding other 
caterpillars which produce silk as well as the common 
silk-worm, and perhaps also some kinds which may be 
able to feed themselves and spin their webs in a wild 
state, without demanding the plantation of mulberry- 
trees, and the unremitting attendance which that insert 
requires. It has been long known that several species 
of wild silk- worms exist in India, and millions of cocoons 
are annually collected in the jungles of that country and 
brought to the silk factories of Calcutta : it is said that 
these insects cannot be domesticated because the moths 
take flight as soon as they are produced ; but the expe- 
riment has been tried, on a small scale, of keeping them 
under a mosquito curtain, and found to answer ; it would 
seem, however, that in a country where they are produced 
and maintained spontaneously in great abundance, there 
would be little advantage in domesticating them, unless 
the produce were greatly improved by cultivation, which 
the experiment does not state. The only attention now 
required is to gather the cocoons when formed ; in addi- 
tion to which, in some parts of India, the natives remove 
the young worms from the jungles, and transfer them to 
trees which grow near their own dwellings, where they 
may be defended from the dangers to which they are 
liable, and where the cocoons can be more easily col- 

The province of Assam, on the banks of the Brahmar 
putra, which until the termination of the Burmese war 
was nearly closed against Europeans, is now an English 
dependency : its resources have been investigated, and, 
among a variety of hitherto unknown productions, nearly 
a dozen species of silk-worms have been found there, 
some of which have been long cultivated by the Assamese, 
and large quantities of the produce exported to the neigh- 
Digitized by VjOOQlC 



[April 14, 1838. 

bouring countries. One of these is the muga-worm, 
which fetfds on a variety of trees, and is never reared in 
the house. We may begin our account of the muga from 
the hatching of the eggs, which are deposited by the fe- 
males on wisps of dry grass. These wisps the natives 
expose to the sun for about ten days, when a few worms 
begin to show themselves. They are then hung up in a 
tree which has been selected for the purpose, and as the 
young worms hatch successively, they find their way one 
after another to the leaves of the tree. To prevent them 
from coming to the ground, fresh plantain leaves are tied 
round the trunk of the tree, on the smooth surface of 
which they are unable to crawl ; if any worms fall off, 
they are carefully picked up and replaced on the tree, 
round which the ground is cleared of jungle that they 
may be more readily seen if they fall. When once placed 
upon the tree, the worms feed themselves, and so far they 
cause much less trouble than the mulberry- worms, which 
must have the leaves brought to them ; but they must not 
by any means be left to themselves, as they are subject 
to the assaults of many enemies. The first against which 
it is important to protect them is the ant, which must be 
destroyed before the worm is placed upon the tree. To 
effect this the trunk is rubbed with molasses, and hung 
with fish and dead toads and frogs ; and the ants, who 
are collected by the smell, are burned by fire ; this pro- 
cess is repeated until not an ant is left near the tree. 
The worms, when they grow larger, are tempting morsels 
for many birds, which lie in wait upon the neighbouring 
tree?, and never fail to pick off a few when not closely 
watched. Their nocturnal enemies are rats, bats, and 
owls, whose ravages can never be entirely prevented. 

The worm thrives best and produces the finest silk in 
dry weather ; but it is not seriously injured by rain un- 
less very heavy, as it invariably conceals itself under the 
leaves on the approach of a shower. It soon destroys all 
the leaves of one tree, and is theu removed to another, by 
means of bamboo dishes fastened to the ends of long 
poles, which are raised among the branches; it crawls 
upon these dishes, which are then placed against a fresh 
tree, to the leaves of which the hungry worm soon finds 
its way. During thirty days the muga-worm remains 
upon the tree ; it has four moultings like the ordinary 
Bilk-worm, but requires no particular attention on that 
account. At length when ready to spin it begins to de- 
scend the tree, but is stopped by the circle of plantain 
leaves. Here it is gathered in baskets, brought into the 
house, and placed beneath bundles of dried leaves sus- 
pended from the roof : in these bundles they spin their 
cocoons, which are generally stuck two or three together. 

The process is after this not very different from that 
employed with the common silk- worm. The cocoons, 
with the exception of such as arc selected for the next 
brood, are exposed to the action of heat, to destroy the 
chrysalis, they are then boiled for an hour in a weak 
solution of potash, and wound off ; not reeled in one con- 
tinuous thread like common silk, but spun like cotton or 
worsted. This of course produces a thicker and harsher 
thread, but it has not been practicable to follow a better 
method ; though it is likely that further experiments and 
greater skill may be found to overcome the difficulty. 
The separation of the worms before spinning would pro- 
bably keep the cocoons more perfect, and consequently 
easier to wind off. It would also be necessary to prevent 
piercing the cocoons ; a practice resorted to by the hill 
tribes for the purpose of getting at the chrysalis, which 
they consider a great dainty : this of course destroys the 
continuity of the thread. 

The muga is a good deal larger than the mulberry 
worm. It measures, when full grown, nearly four inches 
in length, and is then transparent, of a bright yellow 
colour, with small red and brown spots; it makes a 
cocoon about two inches long, and of proportionate thick- 
ness. It feeds on a variety of trees, most of which spring 
up spontaneously m spots cleared for the cultivation of 

rice or cotton, and the colour and quality of the produce 
vary according to the species of tree on which the worm 
is fed. These trees are usually transplanted to the neigh- 
bourhood of the dwellings of the peasantry, to whose com- 
fort the manufacture of muga-silk largely contributes ; as 
it affords a profitable occupation to the youngest and 
weakest of the family, whose services would be unavail- 
able for any other object : in fact, except at hatching and 
spinning-time, these worms require little more than close 
watching to prevent the intrusion of enemies ; and this 
can be done by children, or very old persons, or by those 
who are employed in spinning, weaving, or basket mak- 
ing, the ordinary occupations of the peasantry of Assam. 

The total duration of a breed of worms is about seventy 
days, and it is repeated five times in the year. An acre 
of land produces about fifty thousand cocoons per annum, 
making twenty-five pounds of silk, which is worth from 
6/. to 1/. of our money. It is estimated that 50,000 Iba. 
are annually made in Assam, of which somewhat leas 
than a half is exported. It sells from 5*. to Ss. 6d. per 
lb., and is woven into cloth for scarfs, turbans, sashes, 
and similar articles. 

Another valuable and important silk- worm is the eria, 
or ariudy worm. This is reared entirely in the houses 
of the peasantry, and is fed chiefly on the palma Christi, 
or castor-oil plant, wliich requires little culture. Al- 
though the eria-worm is reared wholly under cover, it 
does not demand so much attention as the mulberry-worm ; 
though there is no very imporant difference in their ma- 
nagement. When they spin, they are put into baskets 
filled with dry leaves, m which they make their cocoons, 
like the muga-worms, in bunches, of two or three to- 
gether. The worms before they spin are either white or 
green, and it is remarkable that the white ones invaria- 
bly spin red silk, and the green ones white. They are 
not reeled, but tpun like the muga cocoons. 

It is conjectured that more than 80,000 pounds of eria 
silk are made annually in Assam, and nearly all this 
large quantity is consumed in the country : it is the con- 
stant dress of the poorer classes, and, in the eold season, 
of the richer also. The stuffs made from it are at first 
coarse and stif£ but repeated washings cause them to 
become silky, soft, and glossy. 

The cultivation of this worm appears to be worth more 
attention than has hitherto been given to it ; it grows 
rapidly, and twelve broods have been perfected in one 
.year. It is reared in almost every house in Assam, and 
may be increased to any extent. The silk, though 
coarse, is warm and durable, and may be bought in the 
cocoon at little more than a shilling a pound. One 
account of it says, " It gives a cloth of seemingly loose 
coarse texture, but of incredible durability ; the life of 
one person being seldom sufficient to wear out a garment 
made of it, so that the same piece descends from mother 
to daughter." A small sample sent to England was 
judged by some manufacturers to be an excellent article 
for making shawls like those of Cashmere. In addition 
to the silk, the castor-oil which is produced from the 
palma Christi might alao be taken into the accouut, us 
little or no injury results to the plant from stripping it of 
leaves to feed the worms. 

The other recently discovered silk-worms are of less 
importance at present, though some of them are likely to 
be useful eventually. # One sort, the deo-rauga, produces 
a beautiful thread of "great lustre, and though now con- 
fined to Assam, feeds upon the pipala tree (ficut reli- 
giosa) which grows abundantly all over India. Another 
sort is of very large size, the moths measuring ten inche* 
from wing to wing. Of several others the distinguishing 
characteristics are as yet scarcely known; but as tke 
attention of Europeans in India has been called to thii 
subject, it is not likely that any really valuable sort will 
long remain undiscovered. 

Printed bv William Clowm and Sows StusSwd 9lre«t, 

Digitized by 


v -*4ed to the 



Society for the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge. 



[April 21, 1838. 


[Scene on the Banks of the Vial River.] 

The Ox, as a domestic animal, has been coeval with 
man, either in a pastoral or agricultural state. It is one 
of the essentials of his existence. We accordingly find 
it mentioned in the earliest records as constituting a 
prime portion of his wealth, and an object of protection 
in the earliest recorded laws, as in the prohibitions not 
to unequally yoke the ox and the ass to the plough, and 
not to " muzzle the ox that treadeth out the corn." 
That the ox was very early employed as a beast of 
draught is well known from the monuments of Egypt, 
and from the mention of it in yokes, as in the book of 
Job, where, amongst that patriarch's other possessions, are 
enumerated " five hundred yoke of oxen ;" and his oxen 
are also said to have been occupied in ploughing. In- 
deed, the creature was, in the earlier history of man, far 
more precious than animals domesticated at a later 
period, such as the horse. The ox was valuable both in 
peace and in war. Its hide covered the " bossy " shield, 
and its horns, besides being a symbol of power, fur- 
nished the earliest and most easily-formed trumpets. 
* The genus bos, ox, of which the bison is a sub-genus, 
comprehends species which have been in the service of 
man from time immemorial, and species which, as far 
Vol. VII. 

as we know, are essentially wild. Thus, whatever may 
be the origin of our domestic ox, the (litis, which ranged 
wild in the Hercynian Forest, and which also abounded 
in the forests of Britain, furnishing our rude ancestors 
with a dangerous but exciting object of chase, is now 
regarded as a wholly extinct species — one that was ex- 
terminated, but never tamed. In like manner, the 
European bison, " an animal still to be found in gome 
of the Lithuanian forests, and perhaps in those of Mol- 
davia, Wallachia, and the neighbourhood of the Caucasus, 
.is a distinct species which man has never subdued;" 
it is " fast following its extinct cougener the Urns." A 
similar fate probably awaits that fierce creature the Cape 
buffalo {bos coffer t described in the ' Penny Magazine,' 
vol. i., p. 137), which Sparrman first recognised as a 
distinct species ; it is now rare within the boundaries of 
the colony, and will, doubtless, continue to retire before 
the advance of colonization. 

That fine docile creature, the domestic Cape ox, is of 
the same essential value to the colonists and the natives 
of South Africa as was the domestic ox in patriarchal 
times, with the additional value of performing many of 
the services which in the East are assigned to the 

Digitized by CjO(3QIC 



[April 2 l # 

oamcl. The readers of the 'Penny Magazine' have 
"been made acquainted with the nature of the services 
and the value of the ox of the Cape. (See the second 
volume, which contains some notices of emigrant strug- 
gles in South Africa, and a recent number, 319, on the 

The Caffres and Hottentots rear a fine race, marked 
with large brown or black clouds. Some are of extra- 
ordinary size, with the horns directed forwards and up- 
wards. It is from these that their bakeley, or war- 
oxen, are chosen ; they ride them on all occasions, as 
they are quick, persevering, extremely docile, and go- 
verned by the voice, or a whistle, with surprising intel- 
ligence. They thrive most on the Zuure Velden (sour 
fields), or saline pastures — fields producing a spontaneous 
crop of coarse sour grass ; and that kind of food may 
cause the particularly fetid smell of their breath noticed 
by Sir J. Barrow. The long boras of some of this 
breed are often trained by the Namaguas and other 
tribes, so as to twist in spiral curves, or other fanciful 
forms, which is said to be managed by means of a warm 

The wood-cut at the head of this article presents a 
party of settlers with their travelling-waggon drawn by 
oxen, and they are endeavouriug to break in a refractory 
animal. In the distance oxen are seen swimming across 
a river. It has been taken from a drawing made by 
one of the artists attached to Dr. Smith's expedition. 


In some of the forests of America, wild bees of the 
domestic or " honey-bee" species are so abundant, that 
many persons make a livelihood by " bee-hunting," that 
is, by traversing the woods in search of the natural 
hives of the honey-bee. But, like other kinds of forest- 
hunting, this is, for the most part, a precarious and un- 
certain calling, so that those who engage in it are persons 
banished from society, or such as are too lazy to engage 
in more laborious and regular pursuits. Bee-hunting, 
however, requires a quick and practised eye, anc| some 
acquaintance with the habits of these useful and indus- 
trious insects ; for where the trees are lofty, the foliage 
thick, and the surface of the ground rough and encum- 
bered with fallen timber, the bee-hunter of long expe- 
rience finds it difficult to keep up a successful chace with 
the honey-laden bees on their way to their storehouses in 
the hollow limbs of some decaying monarch of the 
forest. When he believes that he has discovered the 
retreat of the little wanderers, to make assurance doubly 
sure, with the head of his axe, or with a stout branch or 
sapling, he deals upon the bole of the tree a few 
" sturdy strokes," anxiously watching the crevice he ob- 
served the home-bound insects enter ; and should there 
be a hive or family in some cavity far above him, the 
noise and concussion produced by the bee-hunter's blows 
will most probably create such a disturbance, that many 
of the inhabitants may be seen issuing from their sus- 
pected retreat. However, should his efforts prove un- 
availing (for it will sometimes happen so when the trees 
are very large, and but little decayed), and he still be-, 
•ieves that it is really a " bee-tree," then he returns on 
some other day, and attempts to satisfy himself that he 
has been right in his conjectures. He next proceeds 
to hew down the tree ; which having done, he then lights 
a fire in order to " smoke out" or suffocate his victims. 
Sometimes a bee-tree will contain a large quantity of 
honey and honeycomb ; but as the tree has to be hewn 
in pieces in order to get at the treasure (a portion of the 
honey is usually very old), together with the effect of the 
concussion when the tree falls, a large proportion of the 
prize is lost, or rendered useless, since much of the 
comb gets broken to pieces and mixed with the de- 

cayed and rotten wood. The honeycomb is com- 
monly of greater value than the honey; for where 
bees are tolerably abundant (as is the case in most 
parts of the country under consideration), honey is 
scarcely saleable at any price; while bees'-wax is 
at all times a marketable article, either at the country 
stores or in any of die towns and cities. It is not un- 
usual to find three^or four hundredweight of honey and 
honeycomb in one of those bee-trees ; but judging from 
the very dark colour of the comb, and the peculiar 
flavour of the honey, a portion of it appears to have been 
stored up during several years. 

There is no doubt, however, that many of these bee- 
trees throw off several swarms annually, else the vast 
number of bee-trees could not be accounted for ; for al- 
though it is a very common occurrence for domestic 
swarms to betake themselves to the woods, and thus 
escape, )»et the number of bees lost in this way would 
by no means account for the numerous natural hives in 
many parts of the forests. It is also equally apparent 
that the quantity of bees inhabiting a bee-tree is some- 
times infinitely greater than what an ordinary-sized hive 
contains. Indeed I have seen instances where there 
seemed fully as many as would fill a half-bushel measure; 
and I have been informed by old bee-hunters that they 
had sometimes known much larger quantities. 

Since the "economy of bees" is a subject that has 
been much discussed, and one that has been considered 
as generally interesting, it may prove acceptable to 
give a brief statement of some of the plans adopted 
by practical bee-keepers in the northern States of 
America. The culture of bees is a matter even of greater 
interest in that country than in our own, since it is no- 
torious that the Americans are peculiarly addicted to 
sweets ; and far into the interior it is more the custom to 
use honey than sugar in tea, coffee, &c, except in situa- 
tions where the people are in the habit of making sugar 
from the sap of the maple-tree. 

Although there are various opinions respecting the 
situation in which bee-hives ought to be placed, it 
appears pretty generally agreed that they should be made 
of wood (with reference to America), and their usual size 
about ten or twelve inches square. A common board of 
an inch in thickness is generally used; and although 
some persons prefer two-inch plank, hives constructed xi 
this manner are unnecessarily heavy and clumsy. Some 
bee-keepers erect sheds fronting the east or south-east ; 
but excepting the protection they afford from the heat of 
the mid-day sun, but little advantage is considered to 
arise from sheds of this description. The more common 
mode therefore is, to drive three posts into the ground, 
leaving them about 30 inches above the surface ; and 
upon the flat tops of these a board is securely fixed. On 
this board or platform, which ought to have a slight in- 
clination towards the front, the hive is placed, a groove 
of sufficient depfli to carry off the water having been pre- 
viously cut in the platform. Betides this, there is also 
another board of similar dimensions placed upon the top 
of each hive, which answers the two-fold purpo&e of 
screening them from the meridian sun, as well as from 
much of the rain that chances to fall. The cover may 
be screwed to the hive with a couple pf screws, or held 
in its position by placing thereon a fiat stone, which may 
be removed at pleasure. It is by no means unusual to 
see 30 or even 60 bee-hives, in an orchard or bee-garden, 
placed upon posts as above described, in many parts of 
the country. This is decidedly the best method of 
keeping bees for those who are in the habit of " driving" 
them when they take the honey ; for the old-fashioned 
and barbarous plan of destroying the bees is very tekiom 
resorted to. In this system of " driving," great facility 
is found to exist in the common square wooden hive ; for 
since the mouths or openings of the new hive* are quite 
regular, and of precisely the same dimensions as the Qld 

Digitized by 





ones, the openings of the two therefore exactly correspond 
to each other. 

On some dark and damp evening towards the latter 
part of July, the " driving " is generally undertaken. 
Where a considerable number of hives have to be driven 
it is usual to drive but a few of them on the same even- 
ing, inasmuch as were many of the hives molested at 
once there would be such a disturbance created in the 
bee-yard as might prove injurious to jome of the standard 
hives. The process of " driving" is exceedingly simple. 
After a sliding piece of thin board (fixed there for that 
purpose) has been moved forward so as to shut up the 
small opening which admits the bees into the hive, the 
hive is then moved gently from off the board upon which 
it stood, and carefully placed upon an empty hive, which 
must be in readiness, mouth upwards, to receive it ; the 
sides of each exactly corresponding. A cord, or strap, 
which had been previously placed upon the ground, and 
tinder the empty hive, must be passed upwards over the 
one containing the bees, binding the two hives together 
as securely as possible, which may be easily effected 
where they are made in the manner and of the materials 
here described. This having been accomplished, the 
position of the hives must then be reversed, so that the 
full one may be underneath and its mouth upwards. It 
must then be struck smartly, but not forcibly, with some 
hard body (a short stick will answer very well), and 
after a few minutes' hammering the bees will have as- 
cended into the empty hive. The fastening must then 
be quickly undone, and the new hive removed gently to 
the platform where the old one stood. The whole busi- 
ness, if judiciously managed, will not occupy more than 
a few minutes ; and there will not probably remain be- 
hind more tha'n a score or two of Dees, which may be 
destroyed in the usual way, or else suffered to escape. 
There will at first be great turmoil and confusion amongst 
the bees in their new abode, so that it is generally con- 
sidered prudent not to withdraw the slide that shuts them 
in until the middle or afternoon of the following day. In 
most cases they prudently begin to work as soon as they 
find themselves robbed of their store of sweets ; but occa- 
sionally they continue dissatisfied for some time, and 
attack the neighbouring hives that have been undis- 
turbed. The customary plan is to take away the whole 
of the honey in the hive from which the bees have been 
expelled, provided the season be sufficiently early to 
admit of their laying up an ample stock for the ensuing 
winter ; but sometimes, when the swarm is not very 
strong, or when the summer is considerably advanced, 
only alternate courses of the honeycomb are extracted ; in 
which case the bees have to be " driven " back into their 
old quarters. This, however, is but an indifferent plan ; 
for since the weather generally is hot at that period of 
the year, there is often much damage done to the remain- 
ing honeycomb, and also considerable loss both of honey 
and bees. 

Although the system of " driving " is pretty general 
amongst bee-keepers, of late years many persons have 
resorted to another plan, and, in some instances, with 
considerable success. This plan is invariably to keep the 
bees in open sheds ; and instead of permitting the hives 
to throw off swarms annually, to compel them to take 
possession of new hives as often as may appear necessary. 
When a hive gives indications of throwing off a swarm it 
is slidden back upon the platform where it stands, and 
a new hive, with openings or passages behind, corres- 
ponding exactly with those in the old one, is pushed close 
up against it ; so that the bees are under the necessity of 
passing through the new one whenever they go abroad ; 
and in this new apartment the colony, which would have 
soon been thrown off as a new swarm, commences opera- 
tions. An improvement upon compelling the occupants 
of the old hive to pass through the new one, consists in 
having an opening, in the rear of the old one, which has 

been kept closed until the new hive has been added to the 
other, but which may now be opened at pleasure by the 
withdrawal of a slide, by which means the bees will find 
an easy egress at the rear ; for since the honeycomb is 
placed in rows parallel with the sides of the hive, there 
will be nothing*to prevent a free passage to the rear after 
the front outlet has been closed. Where this plan is 
acted upon, the bee-houses should be open both in front 
and rear, so that it would be immatenal on which' side 
the entrance was placed, although there is apparently 
some objection to the bees entering the hive on the con- 
trary side to that which they have been accustomed to. 
When the new hive has the appearance of being full of 
bees another empty hive may be added precisely in the 
same manner as the last, and where the platform is suf- 
ficiently capacious a considerable number of hives may 
be joined to each other in the manner aforesaid, should it 
be deemed advisable to do so. When it becomes de- 
sirable to take away some honey the process is easily 
effected, which I consider one of the chief recommenda- 
tions of the plan in question. The hives being all ex- 
actly of the same dimensions, and the doors or openings 
of each hive having suitable slides, so as to close them 
when necessary, any hive which may be selected can be 
withdrawn in a moment after the bees have been " drum- 
med out," and an empty one introduced in its place. In 
all the various processes of abstracting honey, where it is 
intended that the lives of the bees should be spared, care 
ought to be taken to perform it early in the season ; since 
it is infinitely better to be rather too early than a little Too 
late, for in the latter case the consequence is the almost 
certain loss of the hive. 

There are several other modes of managing bees in 
America ; but as they have hitherto been more of expe- 
riments than regular systems, it will be unnecessary to 
introduce them here. One plan, however, has struck me 
as being somewhat remarkable; and, so far as it has 
been tried, tolerably successful ; hence I am induced to 
say a few words concerning it. A room of convenient 
dimensions (commonly a small chamber in the dwelling- 
house) is fitted up